Simple As
by ElGal
Summary: Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their eighth year to take their NEWTs. EWE. Slash. M for sexual content and language. Fluff to the max. REWRITTEN.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**A/N:**** So this has undergone a slight re-write. I wrote this four years ago in 2 days for a friend's birthday and it was so obvious that it was written by a 16 year old in 48 hours that I couldn't stand it. I was going to leave it well alone and ignore that it even existed, but then people were still reading it and reviewing so I decided to update it a little bit. Firstly, it's now a multi-chapter fic. Secondly, the word count has increased slightly as I've been adding and refining. Thirdly, the sex scene is hopefully a lot less horrific, whilst also trying to keep the sort of language that the people who enjoyed it in the original liked. Fourthly, it's still pretty obvious that the main body of the story was written by a 16 year old, so please don't judge me too harshly.**

**Chapter 1.**

The days drag along painfully slowly when you couldn't see anything of the world other than the inside of your dreary old room. There's only so much you can do magically before you get bored. You can wave your wand at things and envision the change, but really the most you can do is _lumos_ otherwise you'll be done for doing magic in a Muggle's presence. You can read your schoolbooks and do your homework, but once you've written your essays and thesis' and read every book you have from cover to cover at least thrice, well, you tend to want to do something Muggle.

Obviously not every wizard would feel that way - not every wizard should be forced into a _situation_ to feel that way - but then Harry Potter was not every wizard. On the contrary, he was The Chosen One, the Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, _Harry Potter_. But never just Harry, no. And even now, he was set apart from the rest; spending his holidays with Muggles. Unlike most Muggleborns however, he was forced to stay crammed in Dudley's old room, locked up with no access to the outside world, Muggle or no. He hadn't bought a new owl yet. With Hedwig's death came an obvious hollowness to his already small room. He still couldn't decide if it was sadder not having empty cage perched on a shelf, or having a gaping hole of cleared surface in between all of Dudley's dusty old toys. Until he could look at the space and not want to cry or punch something, violently, he refused to buy a new owl. It felt too much like a replacement and he knew he would never be able to stop himself from drawing all sorts of comparisons between the two. This left him with no form of contact with his friends, however, and of course, the Dursley's would never allow Harry to watch the telly, read the newspaper, or go on the computer. He would contaminate it. Obviously.

So no, nothing exciting had happened to Harry Potter all summer long. Well, apart from when he bemusedly met a snake in the toilet that had been travelling in the sewers until it fell the pull of a 'master'. That _had_ been amusing. Harry didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Dudley's face as he left the bog with a (newly cleaned in the bathtub) snake wrapped round his shoulders. Harry had kept the snake; he threw it out the window every once in a while for it to feed and then it would somehow slither back in through the house, through the cat flap in his bedroom door that the Dursley's used to feed Harry through. Harry had called the snake Barnaby, or Barney for short, after remembering a TV show that Dudley used to watch with a man in a large purple dinosaur suit. Barney (the snake) had a slight purple sheen to his black scales when the light caught them right, which was why he thought of Barney (the dinosaur). Barney didn't really understand the concept of names, but he understood enough that when his master said it, it was what he was supposed to respond to. Harry figured that was good enough.

Currently, Harry was in his room, lying on his bed, levitating small inconspicuous objects up and down in the air. His window was cracked open as far as it could be with reinstalled bars limiting it, and the inch or so of fresh air did little to cool him down on this peculiarly hot August day. Barney had been gone for most of the day, hunting, so Harry's life was much the same as it was before he ever found the snake. It was a mere two days before Harry was due to return to Hogwart's for his eighth year of school. Only two days, but when two minutes felt like two hours, two hours felt like two days and two days felt like two weeks, it almost accumulated to feeling as if he wouldn't be back for months.

Harry had been shocked when he had heard that they were all to return to Hogwarts for another year, if they so pleased. It made sense, of course; none of the seventh years had any form of qualification higher than O.W.L.s, but for some reason it caught Harry blindsided. His mind had been on one-track during the period since the end of the war. Whose wouldn't be, after seeing the corpses of their friends? After realising that there would be another generation of babies that grew up without their parents, just like he and Neville had? After _dying_ and coming back to life? No, his reaction had been fully well justified at the time, but now, after going through week upon week, month upon month, of bored agitation, Harry was _finally_ about to return to his _real_ home again, for the last time.

Well, that dampened his already damp mood. The last time. After this year Harry wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts, and he really didn't have a clue what he would be doing after graduating. Before coming back to the Dursley's, after the last funeral of the deceased had concluded at the beginning of the summer months, Harry had found himself walking a path through the forest that would forever be ingrained into his memory. It had been reckless and stupid and all kinds of other Snape-inspired Gryffindor descriptions, but he had paid no heed to the threat of still-at-large Death Eaters and had found himself sitting in the clearing where he had died. Here was where everything changed. Here was where he had thought the world was ending and then realised that he could still save it, and he had been so _tired_ when he woke up and found Narcissa Malfoy checking his life status. He had been so _tired_ to realise that it wasn't over, that he still had to stand up and continue. It was necessary and he would never had picked the option of staying dead, but it had made him realise that he was done with that life. He was done with chasing the bad-guys and he was done with risking his life. The war had put a new spin on the value of life; one which had been forgotten as the younger generation grew up and those that had survived Voldemort's first reign of terror relaxed as they thought him vanquished. Now, it was more precious than ever and he would be damned if he put anyone through what they had felt when they saw Hagrid carrying his 'lifeless' body out of the forest. He was tired and weary of danger and the last thing he wanted to do was to graduate and have his Hogwarts' robes swapped for Auror's ones.

Thinking on it, Harry wouldn't mind at all becoming a teacher at Hogwarts. The most obvious choice would be to go for Defence, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to deal so closely to the Dark Arts anymore either. And if he became a teacher he would have to put up with years and years of children ogling him and asking awkward questions. Still, it was a possibility; Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to leave Hogwarts for good, it had always been his safe haven; his sanctuary. You can't give something like that up easily, but equally he wanted to pick his career with a clear head and not out his unwillingness to leave his schooldays behind and grow up.

Harry sighed. It was getting dark outside and Barney still wasn't back. He was sure he would be soon, but Harry was in desperate need of a conversational partner. He had spent much too long being left alone with his own thoughts. There were only so many great realisations he could achieve from self-psycho-analysing before he started over thinking and over analysing and generally making more of a mess of his psyche than the war had itself. Harry sighed again. This summer he had already nitpicked every single thing that led up to the war and the aftermath of it as well and he was in desperate need of new thinking material. It had all started at the beginning, he concluded. The Slytherins. His life had always been a swirling pool of Slytherin-affected interactions; first Voldemort killing his parents, then the Sorting Hat wanting to put him in Slytherin, followed shortly by Snape and Malfoy, then regular clashes with reincarnations of Voldemort and his followers until it all came to a head that summer. Harry wondered how different things would have been if he had joined Slytherin in his first year. How contrasting his views on the war would have been if he had been brought up being taught that family ties were important and came before all else, rather than his weak opinions on familial love that the Dursley's had educated him with. He found that he couldn't do it. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would have been like, how he could have felt. All he remembered was how underneath it all, Harry had been scared. And if Harry, who had had a lot of help behind him and many encounters with Voldemort himself, had been scared, how in the hell would other, normal teenagers have felt when faced with the threat of the Dark Lord? Many of them were younger than he was, and Harry forgot that most other 17 year olds weren't used to life-threatening situations. How then, could he possibly hold a grudge against those who hadn't fought or had fought on the other side of the war? If his parents had been Dark, would he too not have followed in their footsteps? He had no way of knowing, and could only assume that what the Slytherin children felt was something unimaginable to him.

The war was over and this period after it was a time for change, a time for equality, and he wasn't going to balls up something he had literally _died_ for over petty rivalry between the Houses at Hogwarts.

It also signalled a time when he could slow down. He could be a teenager; go to school, sit exams, fall in love, get drunk, experience the feeling of adulthood when he buys his first piece of furniture, rather than when he vanquishes his first Dark Lord. It was a clean slate that he could enjoy with his surrogate family in peace. He felt warm inside when he thought of the swarm of redheads, all of whom had miraculously survived the war. He and Ginny had held hands at the funeral of Remus and Tonks, but it had inspired only platonic love within him, and he had a suspicion it was the same for her. It was a messy situation only because Harry was awkward with relationships and he didn't know how to bring it up, but he felt like he knew in his heart of hearts that Ginny knew just as well as he did that they weren't going to grow old together, or at least not as a couple. Harry wasn't sure if his turnaround in his feelings for Ginny signalled something as small as him wanting to surround himself in friends and family and uncomplicated situations, or something much larger as him having focussed his amorous attentions on the wrong gender all his life, but he refused to think too deeply on it. Too long had he spent his life worrying over problems like Dudley used to worry at the skin on his fingertips until they were cracked and bleeding. He was determined to be easy-going and flow-following from now on.

These conclusions had already altered his view on the world and he saw it in a way he'd never really appreciated before. Perhaps it was childish of him, perhaps most other people around him saw it the same and he really wasn't very special or wise at all, perhaps he had just finally caught up to the normal level of philosophy most 18 year olds contained, but Harry enjoyed the feeling of enlightenment he experienced now. He enjoyed the way he could judge with an unclouded mind; the way he could accept people for what and who they were. The lack of anger was soothing and he felt like he could give so much more to those he had taken from. He could be a true friend to them all, at last, now that associating with him wasn't as likely to get them killed, now that he had left the dark times behind him. That meant forgiving, as much as he could, forgetting and moving on in life. It also meant talking to Ginny, the Slytherins and more specifically, though this one was still hard for him to come to terms with, _Malfoy_.

"Master." Harry heard a hiss then a clink as Barney slithered back in through the cat flap, "I feasted tonight, a whole family of mice and a vole as well." Harry shivered involuntarily, suddenly glad that whilst he had had Hedwig, he hadn't been able to verbally communicate with her.

"I'm glad to see that you made it back safely Barnaby." He hissed back, "But please refrain from telling me of your meals. Some of us still see mice as pets rather than food."

"As you wish, master." Harry smiled, amused. That reply had been far more agreeable than he was used to from his usually sarcastic snake.

"You really _are_ in a good mood tonight, aren't you? I'm surprised. Pleasantly so."

"When your stomach is full it is hard to be angry, master." Harry's thoughts immediately went to two days in the future, imagining the treacle tarts laid out in abundance on the Gryffindor table. He would eat twenty, he promised himself.

"I'll be able to agree with you, Barney, when we're both safe and tucked up in Hogwarts. At least then I'll have had a proper meal." At that Barney shook his head in a way which could only be translated as a shake of disgust.

"The Muggles who entrap you here are of foul taste and idiotic logic."

"What logic?" Harry replied snidely. The two of them snickered and Harry sat up from his supine position, allowing Barnaby to slither into his lap and let his shade-cooled scales soothe the burning of Harry's skin as they talked.

~.oOo.~

Good things come to those who wait and it was _finally_ the day the Hogwarts Express left Kings Cross. Harry's entire journey there had been spent in tense silence as Barney hissed menacingly anytime Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon tried to speak. Upon arrival Harry was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor along with his trunk and broomstick, before being left coughing in the fumes of the Dursley family car as they sped away as quickly as possible. Brushing himself off, making sure Barney was alright around his neck, and picking up his things Harry grinned to himself as he made his way to the barrier. Not even the odd looks he got from the Muggles could snuff out his good mood. He was going back. He was going back to Hogwarts!

Harry ran gleefully through the brick barrier (his mood dipped only momentarily when he remembered his second year when the barrier had refused to let him and Ron through, thanks to Dobby) and almost immediately noticed the flock of redheads gathered around near the centre of the train. Well, a small flock seeing as it was only Ron, Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but still, it was more redheads seen together than normal. Amongst the ginger was a bushy brown head belonging to none other than Hermione, whose hand was clasped tightly in Ron's as they both scanned the crowd with worried looks on their faces. Harry grinned even wider as he made his way over to them, the crowds parting before him like the red sea as children and parents alike stared at him in wide-eyed awe. Even those who recovered and started to crowd around him again didn't faze him. He pushed his way through, not caring how rude he seemed, and practically leapt at the couple standing within his reach.

"Harry!" They both cried in unison as he tackled them, causing them to fall backwards against the side of the train in order to support him. When he pulled away he was beaming still.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad to see that you're alright! We didn't hear anything from or about you for the whole of the summer! We thought something might have happened, but there were no rumours flying around _at all_. We had no idea what to do." Hermione exclaimed.

"You have a purple snake around your neck, mate." Ron said, eying Barnaby cautiously. "Just thought you should know."

"He's with me, Ron. He's called Barney." Harry smiled at his redheaded friend as he seemed to visibly relax at Harry's knowledge of the snake, before tensing again as the fact that it was a _snake_ sunk in. Harry wondered how much damage Voldemort had done to the public's opinion on the scaly reptiles and turned to Hermione to a less depressing train of thought. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I haven't got an owl and Barney isn't exactly equipped for letter delivering."

"I resent that!" Barney hissed as he heard the last bit.

"Oh shut up you grumpy old sod, you'd abandon the letter the moment you found a mouse and you know it." Harry snapped back in Parseltongue, Ron and Hermione casting nervous glances between each other as they watched the exchange.

"Harry, do you have to hiss at him? Isn't it, I don't know, drawing more attention to yourself?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"It's easier for both of us if I speak in Parseltongue, Hermione. Barney can understand me in English, but it's sort of like speaking to a foreigner in English when you're fluent in their language. It's kinder." Hermione nodded, but still looked anxious. Harry could understand why, sadly. Not even Hermione was immune to the effect Parseltongue had on people. She may not be as judgemental over snakes due to her Muggle upbringing, but seeing as the only other known person who could speak Parseltongue was Voldemort himself, the sibilant noises can't have been pleasant. Even his two best friends couldn't quite get over the ancient dark magic that was associated with the language, but Harry refused to censor it around them. Things had to change and pandering to everyone's needs wasn't going to help that. A little bit of hissing never hurt anyone.

'_Well…'_ He winced internally as he remembered the Chamber of Secrets, and the scar on his arm from the Basilisk fang ached with a phantom pain. Remembering who else was in the Chamber with him, Harry turned from Ron and Hermione to pay attention to the other three Weasley's, waiting patiently for him. Mrs. Weasley was looking at him with tears in her eyes, Ginny was beaming and Mr. Weasley looked like he could tear up any second as well. Mrs. Weasley rugby tackled him into a hug, ignoring Barney completely, then pulled away to stare at him at arms' length, fussing over him, clucking disapprovingly.

"Harry! Look at you! So _thin_! Do those relatives of yours not feed you at all?" Harry grimaced and decided on diplomacy.

"They feed me enough to get by for the summer." He replied carefully.

"That's a lie and you know it." Barney hissed, then moved to look at Mrs. Weasley. "I tried offering, I told him I could bring him some mice back, but he refused and chucked me out the window." Mrs. Weasley ogled the snake.

"Did he just…talk to me?" She asked faintly. Harry smiled.

"He said that he offered to bring some mice back for me but I said no." He translated.

"And _chucked_ me out a _window_." Barney hissed, opening his jaws and letting his venom drip out of his fangs threateningly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, and I chucked him out a window," Harry told Mrs. Weasley who was looking at Barnaby with wide eyes, "_because that was the only way out of my bedroom_." He added emphatically, pinching the jaw of his snake shut, putting his fangs away.

"Harry." Harry looked up to see Ginny elbowing her mother out of the way in annoyance.

"Ginny." Harry smiled at her, giving her a quick hug. He lingered only momentarily on the smell of her shampoo and the washing detergent Mrs. Weasley used. For some reason his throat felt clogged and he angrily reminded himself that he and Ginny would always be friends, and that this was _not_ the last time he'd ever get to hug her. He coughed slightly. "I need to talk to you when we get on the train, by the way." He added before turning to Mr. Weasley, shaking his hand and bemusedly answering all his questions on the Muggle world that he had managed to accumulate over the summer. Harry often admired the patience the older man must have, being stuck in a firmly wizarding household with minimal access to the Muggle world despite being so passionately interested in it. Harry knew how it felt the other way around; knew how much of a struggle it was to get through months on end with no outlet.

The train blew its whistle, signalling its near departure, and the teenagers all leapt onto it and quickly. Battling down narrow corridors and hoards of younger students, the group found an empty compartment, opening the windows to lean out and wave at the redheaded parents as the train started to move. When it had pulled out from the platform enough for the station to no longer be visible, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all sat down and tugged the windows shut, shoving their trunks onto the overhead shelves. Ron and Hermione sat down next to each other, holding hands on Ron's lap, leaving Harry to sit next to Ginny.

"What did you want to talk about, Harry?" She asked, not quite holding his hand, but rather playing with his fingers absently. Harry allowed her this comfort as he stood up, catching her fingers in his to help her up and subtly dropping it the second she was on her feet.

"Um, can I tell you in private?" He asked. Hermione sent him a slightly hurt but calculating look and Ron's eyes narrowed at his girlfriend's reaction, turning a low glare at Harry. He winced and hurried to assure, "I'll tell you two later, just – let me tell Ginny first, okay?" Hermione nodded and Ron's eyes went back to their usual proportions. Harry led Ginny out of the compartment into the now mainly empty corridor. The only other people still out were a few new first years who were wandering around looking for somewhere to sit, nervously asking people if they could join them in their compartment.

"What is it, Harry? Why couldn't you say whatever it is in front of Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked, looking very much like her mother when she put her hands on her hips and looked at him accusingly. _'Shit, now I'm here, how am I going to tell her?'_ he thought to himself. Her pose softened as she noticed the blind panic in his eyes, and she became more like Ginny as she dropped her arms and moved closer to him. He could smell her shampoo again and for a split second he couldn't do it; he remembered how good they were together, how comfortable he was around her and how simple things would be with her. Then he felt a flick against his ear and a hiss,

"Just come out with it. Be blunt." Barney spoke quietly, flicking his tongue against Harry's ear again. "It's quicker and less painful that way." Harry nodded to Barney and to himself, reminding himself of why it was kinder to him _and_ Ginny if he didn't lead her on, just because he was too attached to the idea of her to let go.

"Right, well, I've been thinking a lot this summer - I didn't really have much else to do - and I realised some stuff." He paused to take in a deep breath. "I – I know I said we could get back together after the war and all the Voldemort crap, but – I'm sorry, I don't think I can." Ginny stared at him for a while, then narrowed her eyes, then looked to ceiling in deep thought. Harry shifted from foot to foot, rubbing his hands up and down his jeans anxiously.

"Okay." She said finally, nodding in confirmation. "To be honest, you separated yourself from me so much, I can't say I expected anything less." Harry stared at her with huge eyes, even more magnified by his glasses. "Don't look at me like that, you look like a Kreacher! I can be mature about these things if I think the person is worth it. Can I ask why though?" She asked the last bit in a softer and quieter voice.

"Oh Gods, yes of course, it's not you Ginny, don't you ever think that." He rushed out, gripping her arms in his hands and looking into her eyes, "You didn't do anything, it's me; I changed over the summer. I realised that I just need my family around me right now and that includes you." He hoped she wasn't offended by that, but her face was carefully schooled as she listened to him and he couldn't read her expression. "And I, um. Well I don't know if this is a thing or not, it might be nothing or it might be an actual, y'know, _thing_ but I don't want to discount it entirely either and -" He cut himself off and glanced at the floor, biting his lip nervously, "…I might not be as attracted to women as I always assumed I was."

"You're _gay_?" She hissed and even though the volume was low, Harry winced and looked around nervously. There was no one else in the corridor, thankfully.

"No, not exactly, or at least I don't think so. I'm still attracted to girls just…not as much as I am to blokes."

"So you're bi?" She asked, her voice lower this time.

"Well yeah, maybe. I don't know. It's confusing." Harry mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Harry." She said. "_Harry_." She repeated when he didn't look up. Harry slowly lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Look, it's okay. I'm disappointed, of course I am, but I didn't love you or anything. It was just a strong crush, alright? And I felt it too, at the end of last year. I think war intensifies feelings because you're never really sure when you're next going to see the people around you, and no one wants to die alone." She reddened slightly at talking about her own feelings, "I mean, I'm sad that it can't work out between us, but look, there's no helping it, is there? If you're not attracted to me anymore, then you're not attracted to me anymore. Simple as." Harry smiled at her softly.

"Yeah. You're amazing, you know that Gin?" She blushed and shook her head, "You are. And you'll find someone else, what about Dean? You were…close to him a few years ago weren't you? He's a good guy, still completely hung up on you."

"How do you know?" Harry winced internally at the memory of hearing his dorm-mate cry out Ginny's name in sync with the creaking of his bed and his heavy panting.

"You…probably don't want to know." He said, smirking as she flushed when she caught on to his train of thought.

"Right, right." She muttered to herself. "What're you going to tell Ron and Hermione? They're expecting something big, now that you said you couldn't say it in front of them."

"Um, probably that I'm not getting back together with you. I don't know if I'll tell them all my reasons or not. I might alter the truth a bit." Ginny grinned.

"Well if you need any help with that idiot of a brother of mine, then let me know, I'll vouch for you." Harry smiled and slung his arm around her shoulders as they started to walk back to their compartment.

"We're good together Gin, I'm sorry we can't be anything more than friends."

"Siblings." She corrected. "You always were the ideal brother to me. You'd think I'd be satisfied with the 6 I have, but they're all pigs really." She scrunched her nose up and Harry laughed, feeling light and giddy from their conversation. "None of them were ever as gentlemanly as you." Ginny continued, "I guess I just wanted something to tie you into the family with."

"Believe me, there's no way I'm ever leaving the Weasley clan. I don't think your mum would let me even if I tried to." She giggled at that and Harry reached forward to slide the door open to the compartment. Ron and Hermione looked up and sent inquisitive looks towards Harry after seeing his arm around Ginny. They sat down and looked at the couple opposite them.

"We have something to tell you." Harry said.

"You've got back together?!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming.

"No! No, quite the opposite, we've decided not to." Harry corrected quickly before they were caught in a lie they couldn't get out of. Ron frowned.

"Why not? What's wrong with my sister?" He demanded of Harry, then turned his gaze to Ginny, "What's wrong with my best mate?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I decided that I see Harry as more of a brother than a boyfriend." She answered smoothly. Harry caught on and quickly added,

"And I decided that I see Ginny as more of a sister than a girlfriend. We're better as mates, y'know?" He asked, praying that Ron would agree.

"Yeah…yeah, alright then. You've got no beef with me." Ron nodded. Harry sighed in relief.

"Beef?" Ginny asked.

"It's a Muggle saying Harry taught me." Ron smiled, proudly, leaning over to knuckle bump Harry. Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes again.

"Boys." Hermione laughed and agreed as Ron squawked indignantly and Harry stroked Barney's head and smiled out the window. He was really very lucky in life, all things considered.

~.oOo.~

The train journey was nearing its end, with only a half hour left. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny decided to get changed into their robes in shifts so they wouldn't lose their compartment. Once the other three had come back, Harry grabbed his bundle of uniform and left to the toilets. On his way back he was intercepted by Malfoy, Zabini and Goyle. '_Oh, here we go.'_ He thought. _'Just when I thought I could talk to them civilly, they appear looking like they want to hex me before I even open my mouth.'_

"Malfoy." Harry nodded towards the blonde, "Zabini, Goyle." He greeted, civilly. Malfoy nodded back, but said nothing. Harry stared at him with narrow eyes, confusion whirling behind them. _'He's not insulting me?'_

"What's wrong, Potter? Mrs. Norris got your tongue?" Zabini smirked with Goyle grunting at his side. Harry turned his head from Malfoy to Zabini, his gaze turning cold.

"I try not to waste my words unnecessarily. They're worth a lot these days." He sneered. To hell with civility. Zabini was a bit of a cock anyway. "Have _you_ got something to say?" He asked, trying to channel his inner Slytherin to allow his voice to come out rather bored and flat. Zabini's smirk fell off his face and his eyes blazed with anger.

"'_Something to say'_? Of course I have something to fucking say." He moved up close to Harry, grabbing his robes and staring angrily into his face. "Something to say to _you_, the person who's the cause of all our misery!"

"Excuse me?" Harry replied coolly.

"You just wouldn't roll over and die like your parents, would you? Had to 'come back from the dead', lock away our families, turn the world against us. If you'd just died like the wolf and the old coot we'd all be rolling in -" Harry punched him. He couldn't help it, the anger flared so brightly across his mind that even hexing him wouldn't have brought around the same satisfaction that smashing his face in with his fist did.

"Don't you _ever_ insult _any_ of those who died because of Voldemort. They were all warriors who died for us. It's because of them that you're even here. You think Voldemort would've kept _you _and _your_ family, of all people around? A family that didn't fight for him? In his eyes neutrality was as bad as high treason and you would have been killed along with all the Muggleborns you so dearly love." And with those parting words Harry stalked away from Zabini who was rolling on the floor, moaning in pain as his nose bled.

When he reached the compartment, Hermione had disappeared to the Prefects and Head Girl and Boy's compartment. Ron looked up took stock of his heavy breathing and thunderous expression and knew that something had happened.

"What's wrong Harry?" Ginny asked, seeing her brother tense as he saw Harry.

"Where's Barnaby?" Harry asked, his eyes searching around the compartment. Ginny picked up her coat (bundled and glowing slightly from a warming charm), to reveal a very sleepy snake who was grumpy at being woken up.

"What is it master?" He hissed, angrily. "I do not appreciate the rude awakening." Harry scooped the snake up and shoved it around his neck.

"I really, really need your company." He hissed, leaning his head against the snake's warm scales.

"What has happened?" Barney asked, butting his head against Harry's face like a cat would.

"Some prick was insulting my parents, Lupin and Dumbledore. I punched him. Probably going to get a detention for that the moment we walk through the gates. Bugger." He thumped his head against the headrest of his seat and shut his eyes against the bewildered looks he was getting from his Weasley friends. "It seems like while Malfoy's lost his balls Zabini's have doubled. He's acting like the new prince of Slytherin. Why can't any year just be _normal_ for once?"

"Nothing is ever normal for you, it would be wrong to expect so." Barney hissed flicking his tongue over Harry's scar as if to prove his point.

"Thanks, your wise words always cheer me up so much." Harry laughed harshly, bringing a hand up to scratch lightly at the scales coiled around his neck.

"You woke me, master; _you_ were the one who chose to speak to me."

"You're the one who understands me the most." It went unsaid that the snake was the only one Harry had truly opened up to about how the deaths of his friends had affected him. "Hermione'll just tell me off for hitting him, Ron will laugh and tell me I'm brilliant and Ginny will get that thin-lip look and give me disapproving stares. At least you won't judge me." He sighed, "You're probably the only person who wouldn't," Harry paused, "though calling you a person is a stretch." He added, smirking as Barney hissed indignantly, then laughing as the snake scratched his chin playfully with his fangs (withholding the venom and not puncturing the skin, thankfully).

"Um, Harry, did your snake just _kiss_ you?" Ginny asked, staring at him in horror.

"I guess now we know why you and Harry didn't get back together." Ron grumbled, obviously miffed at being left in the dark for so long. "Now, you going to tell us what just happened or not?" Harry sighed and flopped back in his seat, resisting the urge to rub his eyes with his hand.

"I punched Zabini in the face."

"Nice one, mate!" Ron guffawed, leaning over to clap a hand on Harry's back.

Ginny just gave him a look with an arched brow and folded arms.

"I know, I know, I was an idiot, but he was insulting my parents, Gin! And Dumbledore and Lupin!"

The redhead sighed. "Harry, you can't just let your anger get to you like that. Those people are gone now, they're not going to hear the insults, sometimes you just have to let it go." Ginny soothed, placing her hand on Harry's tense shoulder. Harry whipped his head round and glared at her, suddenly seething. She looked bewildered and hurt and jumped half a mile as he started spitting vitriol at her.

"Those '_people_' are our friends, and my family! And I won't allow their memory to be tainted by some scum who can't bite his tongue for once and try to accept that his side lost!" Harry yelled, feeling only the tiniest bit of guilt when he saw Ginny shrink back into the seat, "And to think, I was willing to forgive and forget and accept that it wasn't they themselves who partook, but their parents who forced them. Well, Zabini proved me wrong. I swear to God, if Zabini even _tries_ to get me a detention I'll demand that they use my memories to prove that he started it by provoking –"

"Potter." Harry snapped his head up to the door so quickly that he might have got whiplash if Barney hadn't been resting round his neck, providing it some support.

"Malfoy?" Ron asked, incredulous as Harry gaped at the boy in the doorway. "What the bloody fuck are you doing here?" then Ron seemed to remember who Malfoy was acquainted with and sneered, "Come to add insult to what Zabini said, or have you come snivelling to our Saviour to ask for forgiveness?"

"Ron." Harry said sharply, giving him a glare that said both 'shut the fuck up' and 'don't you _ever_ call me that again'. "Malfoy did nothing, it was all Zabini, leave him be." Ron huffed but nodded stiffly, and turned his back on the ex-prince of Slytherin. Harry rolled his eyes at his friend, but felt a small flicker of relief and appreciation for his doggedly-loyal friend letting it go. He turned back to Malfoy who was also staring at Ron, his lips quirking into the beginnings of a smirk. "Malfoy? Why _are_ you here?" The almost-smirk vanished instantly as Malfoy re-focused on Harry. Then he did something Harry would never have expected in a million years. He _bowed_.

"I came to apologise for Blaise's incompetence. He had no right to say what he did, especially when you showed us no hostility when you saw us. It was very big of you to stop at just one punch. I also wanted to thank you for not hexing me the moment you saw me. I know that you have every reason to hate me and hold less than civil feelings for me, and now that the war is over and my parents are in Azkaban, I want to thank you for killing the Dark Lord. I didn't realise how much I would enjoy being free." He bowed again and then turned on his heel and left. Ron and Ginny spluttered for a bit until Harry found his voice, brain and reasoning and sped from the compartment to look for Malfoy.

"Master, why are you running?" Barney asked unhappily as he was jolted from side to side as Harry sprinted down the train turning his head every which way looking for a shock of blonde hair.

"Because, Barney, that was about as close to a friendship invitation that Malfoy will ever give." He paused, "Scratch that, the first time he was a lot more direct, but it's probably the closest I'll get now that we have all this history between us."

"You want to be friends with the Slytherin? If I remember correctly, you disliked them all to a great extent." Barney hissed, wrinkling his nose, as much as a snake could, in disgust.

"That was when I first found you. If you '_remember correctly_', I changed my mind near the end of the holidays and decided it would be better to move on. Zabini is obviously opposed to that, and I don't think Goyle has enough brain cells to even _start_ formulating his own opinion, so Malfoy's as good as we'll get."

"_We_?"

"Yes, we, because, my slinky friend, now that you're with me, you'll be going through everything I do while it happens. We're joined at the hip, we are." Harry grinned wildly down at his snake while still running and rushing around.

"I don't have a hip."

"Grow some balls, Barney, and accept that you've found a master who's not going to be letting you leave at your discretion. The moment we get back I'll ask Hagrid how and you'll be made my familiar; then we're in it for life." Harry beamed, "You've proved yourself to be good enough company." Barney's eyes widened.

"Your familiar, oh master, it is every snakes _dream_ to be claimed as a familiar by a true speaker of our langua –"

"Yes, yes." Harry waved his thanks away, "You can give me your moving speech later, for now, keep a look out for a white blonde head." He paused, "And stop calling me Master, you're a friend, not a house elf."

The two searched for the remainder of the journey, but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, as the train shuddered to a halt beneath their feet, Harry made his way back to his compartment with his head hung.

"Where did he manage to hide for 20 minutes?" Harry grumbled as he pulled his trunk down from the shelf. "The train is _not_ that big." He trudged out onto the platform, moving away from the crowds of children so he could watch them and see if Malfoy was among them.

"Probably cast a disillusionment charm or something." Ginny answered airily as she lugged her trunk over next to his. "I don't know and, frankly I don't care."

"Yeah, why _do_ you care, anyway?" Ron asked as he joined the other two as well, Hermione having already rushed off to the first thestral carriage as Head Girl.

"Because I want to move on from the war and Malfoy seems to be the only one willing to do it." Harry explained, exasperated. "I don't see any other Slytherin's and Gryffindor's trying to make an effort, do you?" The crowd had thinned down to the last person who scuttled past them and jumped on the carriage waiting for them.

"I'm going to get on that one, Harry. You must have missed him and I don't see why he's worth the effort if I'm being honest." Ginny said huffily as she made her way over to the carriage and took the last empty space. "Join us in the Hall if you deem us worthy." He winced at her tone, only realising now that he hadn't stopped to apologise to her before chasing off after Malfoy. The carriage pulled away and another took its place, the thestral pawing the ground and eying Harry moodily, obviously upset at being kept waiting.

"Look mate, I won't stop you from doing what you want to do, but maybe this could wait till after dinner? He has to be there for the sorting, so why don't you catch up to him afterwards, yeah?" Ron tried, coughing at his stomach growled and revealed the real reason that he wanted to leave in a hurry. Harry sighed. From feeling so lucky earlier to now, it seemed like the whole world was against him.

"Yeah, alright then, let's g – wait!" Harry stopped as he saw a blonde head peek around the edge of the train door nearest to them. "Malfoy!" He ran over to the Slytherin who had ducked back inside as he heard his name. Harry grabbed his arm and dragged him off the train and pulled him and his trunk combined over to Ron.

"- and I certainly don't appreciate you _manhandling_ me in such a foul and beastly manner, I am a _Malfoy_ for goodness sake! What on _Earth_ – Weasley." Malfoy stopped his ranting as he saw Ron.

"Malfoy." Ron nodded, not bothering to hide the look of revulsion on his face as he looked at the blonde.

"Right then, now that we're all here, shall we go?" Harry asked cheerily, still tugging Malfoy by his arm as he walked over to the annoyed thestral. The three of them clambered in and the thestral ran down the path until it was lined up behind the carriage in front of them. Harry was grinning from ear to ear, and didn't even notice the weird looks he was receiving from both of his carriage-mates. His hard work had finally paid off _and_ they wouldn't be late for dinner.

"He's bloody mental he is." Ron murmured to, though it pained him that it was Malfoy, the only other sane person in the carriage.

"I concur." Malfoy replied. "Is there any particular reason that you have kidnapped me, Potter?" he asked, leaning forward and clicking his fingers in front of Harry's face, demanding his attention. The likeness to a petulant child ('_Dudley'_ his mind supplied) was striking, and he had to swallow down a laugh at the face Malfoy would pull if he knew that Harry was mentally comparing him to his overweight, Muggle cousin.

"Well, you practically asked to be friends, didn't you?" Harry smiled warmly, causing Malfoy to shiver.

"I did no such thing and _please_, for the love of Merlin, control your facial muscles." He glared, "The sight of you smiling is positively disturbing."

"It takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown." Harry replied in a sing-song voice, wagging his finger in Malfoy's face. For a split second, rage so strong flashed across Malfoy's face that Harry thought he might bite his finger off.

"Mas-Harry, you are much too happy. You're frightening them." Barney hissed in Harry's ear as he coiled himself into a more comfortable position.

"I'm not allowed to be happy?" Harry asked, pulling his finger out of danger's way. "I'm back at Hogwarts, I have the opportunity to tell the rest of the Wizarding world to stuff it by becoming friends with a Slytherin, and _Malfoy_ no less, _and_ I'm about to eat my first proper meal in months."

"Of course. He talks to his snake as well." Malfoy groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Ron watched, bemused.

"So, Malfoy." Harry said in English, "Want to start over?" He asked, holding out his hand to the boy opposite him.

"Why?" Malfoy asked, eying Harry's hand suspiciously as if he was about to wandlessly hex him. "I fought against you. I have the Dark Mark. The man I served is the reason your friends and family died. What could _possess_ you to want to become friends with _me_?"

"Because," Harry said. "I want to move on and forget the past. Remembering it has never done me any good. Besides, don't you want to show the world that just because they expect us to hate each other, doesn't mean we have to?" Harry smirked at his last point. If there was anything he was sure the other boy wouldn't turn down it was a chance to tell the world to fuck themselves.

"We can't." Malfoy replied shortly as the carriage pulled to a halt.

"Why not?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised, leaving his trunk in the carriage where it would be taken to his dorm by the house elves, and standing up.

"Because," Malfoy imitated Harry as he climbed out the carriage and landed on the ground, "We're both playing parts. We're actors, you have your role, I have mine. Maybe our paths cross in the script. Maybe we share some words, some friendly exchanges. But the play tells a story and ours is one of tragedy." Harry heard Ron snort at that a mutter comment about '_dramatic posh gits_' under his breath. Malfoy glared at him then turned back to Harry. "It doesn't matter if our paths cross now, later, never. The ending is still the same. We can't Potter, simple as." With his face carefully blank, he spun on his heel and stalked into the Entrance Hall, his cloak billowing behind him in a manner that would have made Snape green with envy.

~.oOo.~

**Chapter End.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

It was the Friday of the second week of term that Harry made contact with Malfoy again. This was not unexpected. Hogwarts was a different place this year. The student population was noticeably smaller which was worrying because it had never been entirely large to begin with. Those that did remain were significantly more…twitchy than they were before the war. Parts of the castle were still in ruin and it didn't take a lot for sections to crumble and the rubble to fall against itself, creating crunches and crashes that echo down hallways. Nearly no one in the vicinity didn't jump and draw their wands whenever it happened. The student body seemed to have taken one of two stances in this post-war climate: stick together, or stick to their own. Whilst Harry was clinging to all of his even most distant friends, Malfoy had taken to moving around solo, travelling through the shadows and seemingly only leaving the dungeons for lessons and meals. Even the mealtimes were few and far between and despite Harry's best efforts at cornering the boy, he hadn't seemed able to manage it yet.

So it was on the Friday of the second week of term that Harry left their third Potions lesson with the new teacher, Professor Frader. He was a very tall and very wide man who had taken to the Slytherins like a duck took to water (that is to say, extremely well). Unlike Professor Snape, he wasn't as biased against Gryffindors, but there was a certain warmth in his eyes that shone when he spoke to a Slytherin that was absent for Harry and his friends. Walking out the classroom, Harry made his way down the corridor of the dungeons to a tapestry of a morbid looking scarecrow surrounded by trees which were, ironically, full of crows. It hid a well-known shortcut for the older years, and it was currently buzzing with activity, crows cawing angrily and the scarecrow waving its twiggy arms, trying to swat at them. Pushing it aside quickly, Harry was met with the sight of three beefy Slytherins from the year below pummelling a smaller figure into the wall, laughing and taunting the boy as they hit him.

"Oi!" Harry called, whipping out his wand and running over to the gang, his soldier instincts kicking into overdrive. The three looked up at him and stared when they recognised him, before yelping and trying to run away. "_Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy._" He yelled, stunning all three of them before casting an _incarcerous_ to bind them. He looked over at the boy he just saved and breathed in sharply when he saw the bloodied, unconscious body of none other than Draco Malfoy. "_Bollocks_." He muttered to himself. He knelt down next to Malfoy's still figure and checked to see that he was still breathing and not dangerously bleeding out anywhere. His chest was moving shallowly, but it was moving and Harry located the largest source of blood coming from a nasty looking gash under the Slytherin's hair. Knowing that head wounds almost always looked worse than they were, but equally couldn't be underestimated, he gently slid his hands inside the blond's robes and felt around his rib cage, checking for broken bones. Having found none, Harry deemed it safe enough to move him and levitated all four of them up to the Head's office, closer than the hospital wing, and left a scribbled note on a piece of parchment, stuck to one of the attacker's foreheads;

"_These three just beat up Draco Malfoy. Taken him to hospital wing, unconscious and losing a lot of blood._

_H.P"_

He asked the gargoyles to get McGonagall down and then ran for the hills, making sure he didn't bump Malfoy's head on anything as he did so. When he reached the hospital wing he pounded on the doors until Poppy Pomfrey opened them, shrieking hysterical complaints about how the noise was bad for the others in her ward. Harry merely shouted her down and rushed over to the nearest available bed, plonking Malfoy down on the mattress and then turning back to the Mediwitch.

"I know I'm the last person you'd expect to bring _Malfoy_ in, of all people, but he was beaten up pretty badly by three Slytherin seventh years. I've left them stunned and bound outside the Headmistresses office. He's lost a lot of blood and was knocked unconscious, from either blood loss or a hit to the head, I don't know. I didn't arrive early enough to see, he was already out by the time I got there." Madam Pomfrey stood there looking stunned for all of a second, then went to work, waving her wand over Malfoy, casting diagnosis spells and healing charms and sending Harry off to find the right type of potion to give him. When Madame Pomfrey finally said that Malfoy was stable, Harry sank into a bedside chair in relief. He hadn't realised how tightly wound he was until he saw Malfoy, face now relaxed instead of pinched, breathing softly, curled up on his side in the hospital bed. His face was slightly pink from the blood-replenishing potion that Madam Pomfrey had given him, and he seemed almost cherub-like with his now-clean blond hair, blooming complexion against the surrounding white bedding. He was startled out of his musings by a crisp Scottish accent cutting through his thought process,

"Mr. Potter, I should think it appropriate that you go back to your lessons now." Professor McGonagall said as she swept into the wing.

"With all due respect, Headmistress, I'd rather stay here till he wakes up. I need to talk to him."

"With all due respect, Mr. Potter, I'd rather you got to your next lesson. Mr. Malfoy won't be going anywhere and will still be here at the end of the school day. I appreciate the help you have been to Poppy, but your duties end now. I will send a Patronus ahead of you so Professor Flitwick knows where you have been." McGonagall clucked, leaving no room for argument. Harry dropped his shoulders and hung his head.

"Yes, Professor." Sending one last worried look towards the boy in the bed, Harry sloped out the Hospital Wing to make his way to Charms. On his way, a silver cat sped past ahead of him and into the classroom further down the hall. Harry pushed open the door in time to see Professor Flitwick nod to the cat as it dispersed into silver fog. "Sorry I'm late Professor Flitwick, sir." Harry called as he moved to join Ron and Hermione at their desk.

"No, no, that's quite alright Mr. Potter. Please, do take a seat." Harry slumped down into the spare stool next to his friends as Flitwick turned back to the blackboard to continue his lesson on, funnily enough, the Patronus charm. Half of those in the class (those who had been in Dumbledore's Army) weren't listening and were chatting quietly to their friends.

"Harry, where have you _been_?" Hermione asked, looking Harry up and down to check for injuries, "Is that blood on you?" She asked, pointing at a dark patch on his robes that ran from his shoulder down to his elbow, and also to his hands which were covered in the stuff.

"_Scorgify_." He murmured, waving his wand absently at his robes and hands. "Not mine." He replied, "Malfoy got beaten up, I took him to the Hospital Wing." Ron's 'Oh Merlin' was said in unison with Hermione's 'Oh my God'.

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked, after sending a bemused look at Ron. Harry smiled weakly,

"You two really _are_ a couple, aren't you?" He teased, and grinned when he got the blush from the pair that he had been aiming for. "He's fine. I stayed and helped until he was stable, but then McGonagall turned up and told me to leave." Hermione nodded, then paused to think.

"This is our last lesson of the day…I'm assuming you won't be coming back to the Common Room with us." She stated. It wasn't a question. Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"Yeah, I've got a stop to make first, but I'll be a while I think." Ron opened his mouth to ask where he was going first, but Hermione elbowed him and hissed under her breath,

"He's old enough to make his own decisions, Ronald. Let him be." After another grateful look to Hermione, Harry turned back and settled in to the comfortable blank, mindless stare he had developed purely for lessons such as these in which he had to at least pretend to pay attention.

~.oOo.~

Draco Malfoy groaned as he woke up in a familiar feeling bed to see a familiar looking ceiling and feeling a familiar pain that was always associated with this place. The Hospital Wing. He groaned again at this realisation, and flung his arm over his tired eyes dramatically before groaning the third time at the pain that action caused.

"Never thought I'd see the day when I heard what Draco Malfoy would be like in bed." Draco's head snapped up at the sound of a voice, wincing in silent agony as his entire body ached like he'd been trampled by a small herd of elephants. Oh wait. He had.

"_Potter_?" He gasped, incredulous when he saw him sitting on a chair next to his bed, smiling but with a look of concern in his eyes. Mentally shaking himself, Malfoy recovered his pureblood instincts and sneered at the raven-haired boy. "Never thought I'd see the day when Harry Potter insinuated that he'd like to hear what I sounded like in bed." Draco smirked further when his words had the desired effect and Potter went bright red in the face and spluttered before forcing out,

"I insinuated no such thing, Malfoy, I have no reason to wish to see you in that sort of…situation." Draco gave him a gaze that just _oozed _'deny it all you want, I _know_ I'm gorgeous.'

"Why are you here Potter?" Draco sighed, looking around at his surroundings to emphasise the 'here'. His eyes fell across a table next to him that was piled high with sweets and chocolates from Honeydukes. He stared. And stared. And stared. Then he pointed at them and whipped his head back round to Potter who was leaning back in the chair, arms crossed, looking smug. "What are these?"

"Sweets." Potter replied simply, shrugging with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Why do I have them?" He snapped, glaring at Potter suspiciously. Potter sighed and leant in, putting his elbows on the edge of the bed and resting his chin in his hands.

"Because, Malfoy, I find that an abundance of sweets helps anyone recover faster. At the end of my first year, when I woke up after getting rid of Quirrell, Dumbledore was sitting in here with me with a pile of sweets half the size of that, sent by my friends. It certainly made _me_ feel better. Plus, in third year Lupin taught me that you can never go wrong with some of Honeyduke's finest chocolate when you're feeling a bit shaken up." Potter sent Draco a meaningful look and Draco realised that his hands were trembling slightly. Casting one more suspicious look at Potter, Draco dived into the pile and pulled out a huge bar of chocolate. He broke a slab off and shoved it in his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, his eyes rolling back in his head in pleasure as the chocolatey goodness melted on his tongue.

Harry sat back again and watched Malfoy eat, an amused smile playing at his lips at the sight of _the_ Draco Malfoy, practically having an orgasm over a bar of chocolate. _'Malfoy…orgasm…'_ Harry blushed and violently shook his head out of the gutter, shaking the disturbing fantasies from his mind and the even more disturbing realisation that he didn't find them disturbing. "So," Harry started, trying to steer his brain away from the look on Malfoy's face and how much he'd love it if he were to make that face directly because of him rather than just the sweets he brought him. "Why didn't you fight back, Malfoy? I know you know plenty enough spells to hex all three of them to oblivion in one swipe, and that's excluding dark magic." Malfoy gulped and placed the chocolate back on the table, looking now like he was about to throw up.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter." He said shakily, trying, and failing, to clear his face of expression and adopt the blank look he'd been wearing for the last fortnight.

"So you'd rather put yourself down and harm your pride and ego than tell me the truth?" Harry asked, eyebrow cocked.

"I thought I told you that I don't know what you're talking about." Malfoy snapped, lifting his nose into the air and setting his jaw in defiance, but not meeting Harry's gaze. Harry shuffled the chair closer and leaned in.

"Why are you so docile, Malfoy? You haven't said a single thing that's actually offensive to me since last year. What happened to the old Malfoy who wouldn't think twice about chucking a _crucio_ at me?" He goaded, aiming for a reaction. Malfoy met his eyes and glared a glare that promised a painful death.

"That Malfoy left when _you_ killed the Dark Lord and both his parents were locked away for life." His voice was completely contradictory to his countenance; toneless and flat, void of the emotion that his glare betrayed.

"That shouldn't have happened, I'm sorry." Harry shook his head at the memory of the injustice of the situation, "I tried to intervene and show the court that Narcissa saved my life, but they wouldn't let me anywhere near it. They said it was too dangerous and locked me in a warded room until all the trials were over. Then I was packaged off to my relatives before I could even say goodbye to my friends. But what I'm asking is _why_ that Malfoy went away. No offense, but you never seemed the type to suddenly have an epiphany and change your ways for the better."

Malfoy looked at him with a level gaze for a long time, his stare flicking from one of Harry's eyes to the other constantly. Harry could almost see the cogs turning behind his pupils, weighing the pros and cons of telling the truth and seeing if he could trust Harry or not. "If I were the type of person you couldn't trust Malfoy, I wouldn't have saved you from those seventh years."

"_You_ saved me?" Malfoy asked, eyes going wide and disbelief colouring his expression.

"Well, why did you _think_ I was here?" Harry asked, annoyed. It was impossible to just get an answer from this boy!

"I don't know, you practically live here so I figured you walked in after falling over your abnormally top-heavy head, saw me lying here and took pity. For all I knew, the elephants got bored and lumbered off and I was found by a teacher and brought here." Malfoy was scowling and Harry was caught between being pleased that some spirit had come back into the boy and annoyed at his words. He shook his head.

"I found them hitting you, stunned and bound them, left them outside McGonagall's office and levitated you here." When Malfoy didn't' seem any more believing, Harry began listing; "I then helped heal you by getting the right potions that you needed. Then I was forced to go to Charms with _your_ blood all over me. I left, ran to Hagrid's hut, because I _know_ he always has a secret stash of sweets, then came back here and have been waiting for _hours_ for you to wake up. It was because I was _worried_ for you, not pitying you." He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Now will you _please _tell me why you didn't fight back, or at least why you're walking around on your own if you know that some Slytherins have a problem with you?"

Malfoy looked at Harry again and the silence stretched on and on until Harry decided to resign himself to yet another period of staring matches. Just as he sat back in his chair and shuffled a bit to get comfortable, Malfoy spoke, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, a strangely vulnerable look on his face.

"There's no _point_ in walking around with people." He dropped his gaze to his fingers that were worrying at the edge of the duvet, "Even if I did, if I was ambushed or attacked they wouldn't help. They'd run away. I'm not going to fight because no one would fight for me and perhaps that a defeatist attitude, perhaps that's not _Gryffindor_ enough for you, but I have grown weary of battles. I'm…tired of them."

Well that was a sentiment that Harry could certainly sympathise with. He stared at the blonde in front of him, suddenly seeming as delicate as he had on the night Dumbledore died. "Why do you think that?" Harry asked softly, upset that anyone could think that no one would help them if someone started beating them up in front of them. The war hadn't been won for more fights to break out, for more people to become isolated, for _more_ discrimination.

"Because when you see your mother put away in prison when she didn't deserve to go, you tend to lose faith in people." Malfoy scowled, but he didn't stop. "When you lose faith in people you tend to lose hope and when you've lost hope you've not got anything left apart from bitterness and an inordinate amount of self-pity considering you were on the losing side of the war."

"And when you're a Malfoy and you have self-pity you get self-loathing for having self-pity." Harry finished for him, understanding the situation. "But even then, it's just not in your nature to give up your pride and let someone beat the brains out of you. What about all that self-preservation stuff you Slytherins preach about?" Harry encouraged, hoping to get a further insight on this situation. Malfoy was definitely more amenable to talking about his emotions than Harry had thought, and he wondered if the war had really sucked all the Malfoy out of, um, Malfoy.

"When your name is defiled and half of your family heirlooms are seized you forget about things such as pride." Malfoy quipped, "I don't have anything left to lose."

"Long-term suffering does that to you." Harry nodded in agreement as he remembered his days before he knew he was a wizard. Each day was just the same as the last, robotic and mechanical as he worked his way through; he had nothing to lose, but no chance to gain. It was a bottomless pit. Finding out about magic was the safety net that had caught him. But what net did Draco Malfoy have? "I'm not going to lie, Malfoy, I much prefer you without your pride and ego. You're a nicer person who uses their sarcasm for jokes rather than insults. But I don't like seeing you so broken – no let me finish." Harry held up his hand as he saw Malfoy's pride flare back to life in his eyes as he opened his mouth to defend himself. "I don't like seeing you so broken because that's what you _are_, Malfoy. You don't stick up for yourself. You've changed into this nicer person but you won't let anyone close enough to show it. You're _different_ now, but you're better for it. Just because you've lost some of your Malfoy-pride doesn't make you any less of a person. I think you're _more_ of a person. You just have to show other people that."

"How?" Malfoy asked, so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear it. Harry grinned.

"Eradicate your previous reputation. Who cares if the Slytherins think you're being a pussy, being kind to people is better than insulting them and their families. Be nice for once, and you'll see some changes. You might make some friends." Harry's heart started to pound and he pasted a carefully constructed leer on his face, "You might even get a girlfriend."

"Don't want a girlfriend." Malfoy muttered under his breath, but Harry heard it. His heart thudded harder.

"Or, y'know, a boyfriend, whatever suits you." Malfoy's complexion tinted slightly and he looked up from underneath his eyelashes, eying Harry nervously. It was a weird expression to see on the Slytherin's face, and not wholly unattractive. Quite the opposite really, and Harry internally groaned as he felt his possessive side reach out and swaddle Malfoy up inside of him. He was steadily developing a more than friendly interest in the blond before him and he just knew that his wish of a simple year, surrounded by friends and family and no drama, had just gone up in a poof of smoke. '_Got to let him know you're available'_ his possessive side told him, _'you know, for er, support purposes. Let him know he's not alone and all that'_ he tried to convince himself. It was a lost cause, really. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He found himself saying, "If it helps at all I'm, um, I'm bi. So. Um only you and Ginny know. Oh and Barney, my snake."

"The Weaslette?" Malfoy asked cautiously. Harry didn't take offense at the name, figuring it was part of Malfoy's vocabulary now and had practically adopted Ginny's name in his head.

"I had to tell her why I didn't want to get back together with her." In for a penny, in for a pound, he figured. If he's spilling his secrets to Malfoy then he might as well spill _all _his secrets. Malfoy frowned, looking mightily uncomfortable and obviously embarrassed out of his mind, but his curiosity won out and he asked,

"But you like girls…?"

"Not as much as boys." Harry grinned, watching as Draco nodded stiffly with his cheeks steadily colouring. "Tell you what, Malfoy." Harry said, a plan forming in his head. "Why don't you start by hanging out with Ron, Hermione and me? We're the least expected people for you to acquaint yourself with, so maybe that would get rid of your old reputation the quickest? Plus, the sorts of guys that beat you up earlier would be far less likely to approach you if we're around." He grimaced, "The amount of hero worship here is disgusting. Plus, it's sickening to be around those two when they're such a loved up couple." At this Harry's grimace set into a definite scowl. He wondered if it was obvious that he was jealous. "And it would be nice to have someone around who knows my secret. Ginny's all very well and good, but she _is_ in the year below, and it's harder to hang out with her than it is in comparison to the other two. Our timetables are completely different, as are our friendship groups. We barely see each other and as there's no need to specifically _make_ time for each other as we're not dating…well we just don't bother." He trailed off as he realised that Malfoy most probably didn't care about whether he and Ginny still socialised with each other or not.

Looking up at the blond from where he had been staring at his twiddling thumbs, Harry saw that Malfoy looked like he was about to protest so he held up his hand to silence him. "Just think about it, yeah? If you want to, just come and sit at our table for dinner tonight, I'll tell Ron and Hermione and any other Gryffindors so they understand, and they will. It'll take courage, but most things do. A little bit of pressure can give you strength sometimes. That's what I discovered last year, during the war. When you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders you can only do one of two things. One; give up, two; take strength from it. Number one was never an option. I know you think that you've hurt in a way that no one can understand, but I _can_. Pretty much everyone in our year can; we all fought the war together. You're not alone, Malfoy." Harry stood up, "Think on it for a bit. Eat some chocolate and get your wits back together, Madam Pomfrey has already given you the okay to leave whenever you feel up to it." Harry paused, reached out a hand slowly enough that the blonde could see it coming and squeezed his hand gently (_'Good lord, does he wash his hands with baby lotion?'_ Harry caught himself thinking. They really were the softest hands he'd ever felt. _'Bloody posh git'_). "If you can't manage it, then that's fine, okay? We'll figure something else out. You have options this time; no one's forcing you to do anything." He turned around and walked over to the doors. Pulling them open, he looked over his shoulder, "I'll see you later…Draco." And enjoying the look on M-Draco's face, he opened the door and left swiftly.

~.oOo.~

Harry went back to Gryffindor tower and waited patiently for a few hours until almost all of the eighth and seventh years were in the room. Ron and Hermione had been questioning him ever since he got back, asking him what had happened between him and Malfoy. He had refused to say anything until everyone had come back before dinner though. Now that most of them were, he stood up on the coffee table by the fire and coughed to clear his throat.

"Um, everyone!" he called and the chattering cut almost immediately to an eerie silence. The silence unnerved him, reminded him too much of the war and he could see it in the faces of the crowd as they shuffled and sent nervous looks amongst themselves. He wondered how many of them had been tortured by the Carrow twins for not shutting up quickly enough. "I have, a, err, favour to ask you all."

"Anything for you, Harry!" Seamus called, always the quickest to bounce back, and his cheery Irish accent raised the mood back and the Gryffindors relaxed as one body. Whoops and cheers of agreement followed in short order and Harry smiled in gratitude to the Irish boy but replied,

"You might not say that when you hear what it is I want." The crowd muttered and exchanged nervous and excited glances amongst themselves. "Please can you all hear me out before you react? It's…pretty big." There were nods of subdued consent. "Right. Well recently, I've been talking to Draco Malfoy. I know! I know, crazy right? But listen for a bit, first. He's…changed. He's not an arrogant prick anymore, his parents are both in Azkaban, one of them unrightfully so, he's lost his pride, his confidence and he _wants_ to change. I know most of you are probably sitting here thinking that he deserves it, but he's really not a bad bloke. And everything about the war ending was so that prejudice would be stamped out, that means giving people second chances. I thought it would be good if he got rid of his bad reputation by hanging out with people no one would expect him to. So…I sort of told him to come and sit with us at the Gryffindor table for dinner. It might not happen though, I just wanted to ask you all not to shout and jeer at him if he did. He wouldn't necessarily have to sit anywhere near most of you, really just Ron, Hermione and me, so you don't need to be _nice_ to him, just…civil. Please? I won't ask anything of you again if you just give him a chance."

The room was silent for a few moments before Neville, good old harmless Neville, stood up and said to the room at large. "It's not a problem with me, Harry."

"Yeah, I sat with him in the thestral ride over, he was actually sort of…funny." Ron added.

"He needs people to be kind to him." Hermione said.

"And no one deserves to be left alone with no friends and no one to turn to." A third year said.

"If you say we can trust him then we will, Harry Potter." A first year squeaked. All of a sudden the whole of Gryffindor house was erupting in agreement, shouting out that they would do everything they could to make sure that no one harmed a hair on Draco Malfoy's head. It was all so much more than Harry could have asked for that he was forced to sit down in stunned silence. When the room had quietened down a bit and everyone was left looking at Harry he said,

"You guys are the best housemates anyone could ask for. This is above and beyond the Gryffindor kindness that I expected. Thank you."

"Anything for you, Harry!" Seamus repeated to the laughs of the Gryffindor's. Harry smiled. The crowd dispersed and Ginny waded her way through to him.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for what I said at the beginning of term, Harry." She said, sitting down next to him. "I haven't apologised, and I know you're just doing the right thing. I trust your judge in character. And if he turns out to be an alright guy…then, well, he's not bad looking." She grinned at him slyly, jabbing him in the ribs playfully. Harry laughed.

"I've already noticed that he's not bad looking." He grinned back, "And he's available and he's available to _men_ at that. Exclusively." Ginny looked scandalised.

"How on Earth did you figure that out in _two weeks_?"

"An afternoon, actually, and only an hour at that." Harry's grin just got wider and wider. "I saved him from some thugs. Once he knows who he can trust, he's quite willing to open up really. And who can resist the charms of Harry Potter? I saved the world, twice. Didn't you hear?"

"Oh, Harry you _player_!" Ginny giggled, swatting him on his arm. "Well, I'll see what he's like at dinner, then I'll tell you if I can approve of him or not."

"Thanks, Gin. For being so understanding and being so cool about this all." He hugged her, "You're a great little sister. The best I could ask for." She sniffed and stuck her nose in the air,

"Of course. I wouldn't let you expect anything less." They both laughed and soon the whole of Gryffindor house had taken to the corridors and were stalking down to the Great Hall, talking excitedly amongst themselves about having a Slytherin in their presence during the meal.

~.oOo.~

Draco Malfoy was nervous. No, Draco Malfoy was _very_ nervous. In fact, one might call him a nervous wreck. He was standing outside the doors to the Great Hall, shifting from foot to foot and rubbing his hands together anxiously. He was going to do it. He was _going _to do it. '_Come on Draco, pull up some of your old pride, you know you're just stalling now. Just go in and _do_ it.'_ He pushed open the doors and walked into the still half-empty hall. The Ravenclaw's were sitting at their table, always ones for punctuality, and the Gryffindor's were sitting at theirs, never ones to be late for a meal. The moment he walked in every single Gryffindor head whipped around to stare at him. Then, to his immense surprise each face suddenly broke into a smile. Harry stood up and waved him over, making everyone shuffle down the bench slightly to accommodate the extra person. Grateful that the Slytherin's hadn't deigned it late enough to dine yet, Draco made his way over to the bustling table full of smiling faces.

"I don't know how you do it Potter. You're a miracle worker." He said as he sat down to tens and tens of welcomes from various people he had never even spoken to before.

"Harry." Harry said, "Call me Harry, Draco." Draco smiled,

"Okay then. Harry."

Harry blushed as he felt the happy tingly feeling of having Draco call him by his first name rush steadily through his veins and warm him from the inside out. He coughed and then swept his arms out wide, gesturing to all the people around him. "Welcome to Gryffindor, Draco. Everyone agreed to be nice, so don't worry, we won't bite."

"Yeah, but we might roar." Seamus added from across the table before starting to roar and howl with Dean, waving their wands madly in the air and producing far more realistic lion roars than they were managing. Draco looked at them with wide eyes, before the corners of his mouth twitched up into the beginnings of a smile.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to sit at Gryffindor's table. It's always looked so vibrant and lively, from the other side of the hall." Draco said, starting to grin as Seamus knocked Dean's goblet of pumpkin juice over Ginny's plate and Gin retaliated by pouring hers over the Irishman's head.

"Yeah and Slytherin's table looks like it has spikes on the benches that go up your arses." Ron called out loudly, and everyone collapsed into fits of laughter again.

"Though _some people_ might enjoy having something shoved up their arse at the dinner table." Harry murmured quietly into Draco's ear, taking great pleasure at the shiver that it caused to run down the blond's body. He scooted closer to Draco under the pretence of reaching over for the mash potatoes, making their knees and thighs touch.

'_Is Harry Potter _flirting_ with me?'_ Draco thought to himself, unbelievingly. Then Harry reached over Draco's lap to tap Ginny to get her attention and subtly, but definitely on purpose, brushed over his crotch as he did so. Draco's breath hitched in his throat and he had to cough halfway through the conversation he was holding with Granger about the best way to brew Dreamless Sleep Draughts in order to hide it. _'Yes. Yes Harry Potter is most _definitely _flirting with me.'_ For the rest of the meal Draco felt a warm, happy feeling inside of him. Maybe it was because he was accepted here. Maybe it was because the atmosphere of the Gryffindor table was so cheery. Maybe it was because the happiness of the Gryffindor's was so contagious. Maybe it was because he knew he was wanted. Maybe it was because he knew he was wanted by Harry Potter. Or maybe it was because he was wanted by _Harry_.

~.oOo.~

"Hey guys!" Seamus called out to the table. Gryffindor was the only table still full in the Great Hall. The Slytherin's hadn't seemed to even notice Malfoy's absence from their table and had quickly finished their meal in near silence and then all marched back to the dungeons. The Ravenclaw's had all left to finish their homework, probably, which left only a few straggling Hufflepuff's at the table as the rest had disappeared to do…whatever it is Hufflepuff's do.

"Yeah?" Harry called, feeling giddy with happiness. Throughout the meal Draco had really come out of his shell and had even been returning some of his subtle flirtations. For instance, right now their legs were twisted around each other's; ankles locked around the other's, hands resting gently side by side between them on the bench.

"I say we throw an impromptu party in the common room to commemorate Draco's initiation into Gryffindor!" It was amazing what an hour could do and everyone at the table within the vicinity of Draco had come to like him once they held conversations with him that didn't include insults and hexing. They had all taken to calling him by his first name and vice versa (apart from Ron and Ginny whom Draco couldn't seem to help but call Weasel and Weaslette. Ron took it in good humour and continued to call Draco, Ferret in retaliation). They had decided that he was different to the other Slytherins (easier to think that than realise that their generalisation of the entire house was wrong) and that he had been good and brave enough to become an honorary member of Gryffindor.

There were multiple lion roars and wolf howls of consent in reply and Seamus grinned from ear to ear at the acceptance of his idea. "Harry, you have to get the booze, yeah?" He said in a lower voice, leaning over the table, sending nervous glances over at the teacher's table. "You have the most connections with the house elves." Harry nodded, smiling, still giddy and not caring what he had to do, so long as it meant that he could spend more time with Draco. "Oh, and mate?" Seamus leant in further and lowered his voice even more. "Unless you want the whole house to know, I'd tone it down with Draco. You're looking at him like he's a piece of rare meat. Or the snitch," he shrugged, "Whatever."

Harry flushed bright red and spluttered as Seamus leant back smirking. "How – I – but – I wasn't _that_ obvious, was I?"

"You were to Seamus and me." Ginny piped up. Draco looked up when he heard the two people on either side of him speaking.

"What was what to Seamus and the Weaslette?" He asked, looking between the three.

"Nothing." Harry said quickly, sending Seamus a glare that made the Irishman hold his hands up in surrender. He did the same to Ginny, but the sister-of-six-brothers took the opportunity presented to her and baited him. Through his annoyance, Harry was pleased, deep, _deep_, down, that they were on good enough terms for her to not even hesitate to piss him off on purpose.

"We were saying that your guys' groping of each other through dinner was highly obvious to us two." She smirked evilly as both boys blushed. Draco tried to move his hand away from Harry's, but Harry grabbed it blindly, glaring at Ginny the whole time.

"No, don't." He said, turning his attention to Draco solely, voice low enough that only he would hear over the din the Gryffindors were making, planning the party. "They won't say anything, and they won't judge. Please don't push me away." Harry looked into grey eyes imploringly until he could visibly see Draco's stubbornness melting under it.

"Okay." He said simply and let Harry hold his hand loosely under the table.

"Alright everyone! Let's go!" Seamus called when he saw the last Hufflepuff leave. Gryffindor policy; first to arrive, last to leave. Everyone clambered up off the benches, and Harry dropped Draco's hand only to tug at his elbows and led him down to the hidden entrance to the kitchens, while the rest of the Gryffindor's ran up to the tower as quickly as they could.

He pulled Draco to a halt outside the portrait of the fruit bowl and tickled the pear. Draco looked bemused so Harry explained as the fruit turned into a doorknob,

"Hermione discovered it in fourth year. She showed Ron and me." Entering through the door, Harry heard a short puff of air move past him as Draco exhaled at the replica Great-Hall, barring the pots and pans, huge stone hearth and tiny elves busy with cleaning up after dinner and getting ready for the next day's breakfast.

"Master Harry Potter, sir! How may Winky be helping you, sir?" Winky appeared in front of them, a bottle of Butterbeer in her hand, as was her signature look.

"Winky! Just the elf I was hoping for." He called as he saw her, "Actually I and the other Gryffindor's are throwing an impromptu party and we were hoping you could supply the drinks for when the younger years go to bed, if you get my drift." He winked. Winky looked at him with wide eyes when her face cracked in two with a large, thin smile that made her eyes crinkle closed so much they looked almost human sized.

"Of course, Master Harry Potter, sir. I am to obey your orders. This way please." She said and pulled him over to a corner of the kitchen by his sleeve.

"Thank you Winky. I knew I couldn't trust any other elf than you." He said gratefully, laying it on thick. Winky nodded, proud, and opened a well camouflaged door which revealed a huge chamber filled with wine racks that held nothing but a combination of Butterbeer, Firewhisky and something Draco said was called Dragonale, which was a drink even stronger and more potent than Firewhisky with triple the burn. Winky then produced a few bags which had enlargement, lightening and _muffliato_ charms cast on it so they could carry the hundreds of bottles it would take to satiate the Gryffindors, without so much as a clink from inside.

"Brilliant. You're a star, Winky." Harry said when they had filled the bags to as full as they could. He gave the house elf a dazzling smile and then left with Draco in tow.

"Did you just _flirt_ with a house elf, Harry?" Draco asked incredulously when they were well out of earshot of the kitchens. They had already made it halfway back to Gryffindor tower, thanks to the usage of plenty of short cuts.

"No, I was just…'overly polite'. It always does help a bit. And it's not like I'm interested in them anyway." He paused as they reached the stairs that led up to the portrait hole. "Besides, I already have my sights set on someone." He grinned impishly at Draco, who went slightly pink, and then turned and started the hike up the stairs.

When Harry opened the portrait hole his eyes were slaughtered with the sight of red and gold decorations and a loud booming of music someone had put on. He quickly leapt inside with Draco behind him, and slammed the portrait over the entrance again, lest the music escape too far into the castle and disturb the teachers. It was only 9 o'clock, so most of the house was still up. A few first years with a weaker disposition had already turned in, and the other 11 year olds were dropping like flies. He and Draco put the bags behind an over-stuffed arm chair and split to find Seamus or Dean.

~.oOo.~

"Harry, could I talk to you for a sec?" Ginny tapped Harry on the shoulder, pulling him away from the conversation he was having with Dean about when to bring their alcoholic treasure out.

"Sure." He agreed, smiling, and excused himself from the conversation. Ginny led him over to an empty corner which was far away from all the music and chatter of the Gryffindors.

"Okay. I can't help it, Malfoy is brilliant." She said grinning, "Seamus just hexed his hair blue, so Malfoy transfigured Seamus' nose into a pig snout. It's just like how Fred and George were at school!" Harry beamed and said proudly,

"I told you he'd changed!"

"Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't believe you the first time." She nodded solemnly, "But I completely approve if you two want to get into each other's pants." With a grin and a spluttering Boy-Who-Lived, Ginny left to go chat with her friends from the year below.

"You alright there?" Harry whipped his spluttering head around to see a blue-haired Draco looking worried, but extremely put out with his new hair colour and (he couldn't help it, he really tried to hold it in, he _did_) burst into peals of laughter. "Oh great!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, "Even _you're_ laughing at me. I really must have gone to the dumps if I have a Gryffindork laughing at me."

"I'm sorry." Harry panted out between giggles. "It's just so…funny!" And with that he was gone again, dissolved into fits of hysterics. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed the other boy by the elbow and marched him over to a sofa by the fire where Hermione was sitting.

"You owe me three Galleons." He said to the witch when he shoved Harry in front of her.

"Really?" She said in wide-eyed horror, then she frowned, "But I could have sworn he wouldn't laugh…He hardly even laughs when Ron and I are the subjects of Seamus' pranks, he knows we'd get angry…" She gave Draco a long, calculating stare and then sighed, rummaging around in her pockets. "Here." She said, thrusting her hand out and shoving three large, gold coins into his outstretched one.

"And you owe me a remedy as well." He said, looking at her with one arched eyebrow.

"God, yes, yes, it's coming, it's coming, hold on let me think. Honestly, you've changed, but in a way you're still exactly the same." She muttered to herself.

"_I_ know how to change your hair back to lellow." Ron stumbled over with a half-drained bottle of Firewhisky in his hand. He frowned, "Lellow. _Le_llow. Le-yellow!" He shouted, smiling proudly.

"Ron, where did you get that whisky from?" Harry asked. Ron waved over his shoulder in a vague gesture of direction to the pile of bags Harry and Draco had brought from the kitchen. Harry and Draco exchanged a nervous glance. "Ron, did you tell anyone else where you got that from?" Ron leaned in close to Harry's face smiling.

"Nah. It's my secret stash, isn't it?" he beamed, "But I told you, because you," he prodded Harry's chest with his finger, "you're my mate, aren't you?" he then snickered as if he was telling the world's biggest secret. Harry rolled his eyes even though he was grinning.

"Weasley, why don't you just go back to doing…whatever it was you were doing?" Draco said, recalling that the only things he'd seen the youngest Weasley son do were dance badly, shout, and lie on the floor.

"No, no…" Ron muttered to himself, "I had something I came over for…and something to do…" He frowned. Draco just sighed and turned back to Hermione.

"Can you fix my hair or not?" He asked impatiently. Harry sniggered. "_What_? Do you have something you'd like to say to me, Potter?" Harry leaned in to Draco's ear and murmured lowly,

"I can't believe I didn't notice how camp you were before. If I hadn't have already known, I _so_ would have guessed you're gay." Draco just pulled a face, muttered _'stereotypes_' under his breath and turned to look at Hermione again.

"Well?" He demanded.

"That's it!" Ron shouted. "I can turn your hair back!" He coughed to clear his throat, got out his wand and started waving it in an important matter. "_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow –"_

"_Ron_! No!" Hermione leapt up and pushed Ron away and snatched his wand from him. "That spell was designed for _rats_ not humans; you have no idea what damage that could cause if you cast it on the wrong subject!"

"Besides, it doesn't work." Harry snorted at the crestfallen look on Ron's face when he couldn't find his wand in his hands or robes.

"Hey. Scabbers was a human, he doesn't count." Ron argued then he swayed on the spot and fell onto an armchair, unconscious. Hermione just rolled her eyes and muttered a spell under her breath, waving her wand in Draco's direction. Instantly the blue seemed to recede into his roots until only his original blonde was left. She glanced at her watch.

"It's ten to one, I'm going to go to bed. I have my Head Girl, boy and Prefects Saturday meeting tomorrow – err, today." And with that, she shooed some of the younger years to bed as well, leaving only a few sixth years, most of the seventh years and all of the eighth years.

Harry grabbed the bags from behind the armchair and brought them back over to the sofa where Draco was sitting. He put the bags down by his feet and slumped onto the sofa, casually throwing his arm around the back of the cushion he was leaning on and letting his hand rest on Draco's far shoulder.

"You know as much as blue suited you, I think I enjoy the blond Draco more. It suits your personality better." Harry grinned.

"Oh please don't start on the blonde jokes." Draco said, narrowing his eyes slowly. Harry put a victimised look on his face,

"_Me_? Tease _you_? About the fact that you had _blue hair_? Perish the thought!"

"Oh shut up."

"Harry." Harry heard a hiss from next to his ear and turned his head only to have a black tongue flick in his face.

"Barney!" He cried happily. Barney slithered around Harry's neck and down the arm that was now around Draco's shoulders. The snake leant in and flicked his tongue into Draco's ear.

"Bloody hell!" Draco screamed and jumped back into Harry's open arms. "Control your snake, Potter!" Harry smirked at Barney and hissed a quiet 'thanks'. Barney nodded and slithered off and coiled up a few feet away in front of the fire. Harry wrapped his arms around the jumpy boy who was now sitting in between his legs as Harry leant against the arm of the sofa.

"Draco Malfoy, proud Slytherin, scared of snakes?" Draco hissed indignantly but didn't try to pull away from Harry's embrace.

"Me? Scared? Hah! I just don't appreciate tongues in my ear." Harry grinned internally at the difference one evening with people who actually wanted him around had made to the blond. Already he was getting snappish and snarky, like an owl with ruffled feathers. Harry never thought he'd be pleased to see a moody Draco Malfoy, but he was. He leaned in and placed his lips up against Draco's ear.

"Do you not?" He whispered, "You sure about that?" He slowly let the tip of his tongue trace the shell of Draco's ear and when a shiver passed through the Slytherin's body he nibbled gently on his earlobe as a reward for good behaviour. Draco made the tiniest and shortest of noises, sounding like it got caught in his throat on the way out and Harry's heart hurt from adoration of the blond in his arms. Draco sighed gently through his nose and pressed back against Harry's chest. There was the sound of a throat being cleared and Harry looked up from where he was pressing kisses against Draco's arched neck.

"Hey, Harry." Seamus said in an amused voice.

"What do you want?" He asked, annoyed, despite the devilish grin on Seamus' face that told him that something fun was about to happen. He pressed his lips against the crown of Draco's head as he had tensed at being seen and was suddenly very still and very quiet. Draco relaxed slightly at Harry's kiss and even managed to get the guts to turn his head and glare at Seamus as well. Seamus continued, not even slightly deterred by both of their unimpressed looks.

"Time to start the real party, eh?" Harry grinned at that and whooped, squeezing Draco once around the waist before standing to grab the bags he and Draco had under his feet. Spilling the contents into his place on the sofa, by the time all but one of the bags were emptied, the sofa had been dominated by booze.

"You really outdid yourself this time." Seamus whistled, impressed. "Let's crack 'em open!" He called and showed the rest of the room the alcohol. Everyone howled and roared and crowded around the sofa, grabbing a bottle per person. When everyone had gone back Harry opened the last bag that he had kept hidden, to reveal two Butterbeer, two Firewhisky and three Dragonale bottles. He grabbed the Butterbeers, cracked the lids off with a simple spell and handed one to Draco who had settled back into the same position as earlier.

"Cheers!" Harry called happily.

"What are we toasting?" Draco asked, clinking the neck of his bottle together with Harry's all the same.

"Your initiation into the lion's den." Harry smiled and chugged a good quarter of his beer. "Hey, you know what would be fun?" He asked.

"What?" Draco asked cautiously, sipping at his drink.

"_Rennervate." _He said and waved his wand at the unconscious Ron. Instantly, Ron opened his eyes and sat up groggily, holding his pounding head in his hands. "Hey Ron!" Harry called and picked up a bottle of Firewhisky, "think fast!" and he chucked the bottle to the redhead. Thankfully, Ron's keeper skills kicked in and he just about managed to catch the bottle. The two on the sofa watched as Ron's tired mind registered what the bottle was, grinned, opened it and took a swig happily. After the obligatory face-pulling at the burn, he stumbled up from his place and staggered around the room, getting his sealegs right before talking to Ginny. Harry and Draco watched with interest as the girl grinned mischievously and directed Ron to the entrance of girls' dormitory. They amused themselves for a few minutes watching Ron try to get up the stairs and sliding down every time they turned into a slope. If nothing else, he was a determined drunk. Their fun ended when a younger student came out of her room to sleepily glare at him. She turned on her heel and a few minutes later Hermione took her place, shook her head disappointedly at Ron (who was beaming and slurring at her) and followed him up to Harry's dormitory. Harry and Draco returned to talking and Harry vowed to himself to give them at least an hour before he went to bed. Not that he thought Ron was in any particular state capable of shagging, but better to err on the side of caution.

Once the Butterbeer had run out, and both boys were feeling decidedly warm and fuzzy, they decided to skip the whisky altogether and go straight for the Dragonale to do shots. From the first shot Harry took he could practically feel the alcohol go straight to his head. By the time they had drunk a third of the bottle, he was starting his ministrations to Draco's neck again.

"Spin the bottle!" Seamus shouted, effectively breaking Harry and Draco apart. There were a few cries of consent as most people had either gone to bed or were passed out on the floor. As Harry and Draco stood and zig-zagged their way across the room, Seamus muttered a charm on the bottle and then placed it in the middle of the circle of people who were playing.

"Harry! You got the alcohol, you go first!" Dean called with a wicked glint in his eye. Harry leant in and spun the bottle, ignoring the slightly hungry stares he got from most of the girls there. The bottle spun around three, four, five times and then stopped facing Draco sitting next to Harry. Seamus and Dean smirked at each other and high fived behind their backs.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!" The crowd chanted cheerily, all intoxicated to some extent from the wizard alcohol. Harry looked at Draco with unfocused eyes and smiled softly. He grabbed the blond's arms and tugged him in until he was forced to straddle the Gryffindor's lap. Harry slid one hand onto Draco's hip and ran the other up his back until it cradled the back of his head, his fingers entwined in golden hair. Draco took Harry's glasses off and laid the frames on the ground next to them and then leant in as Harry gently tugged his face closer. The crowd watched with baited breath as Harry's and Draco's lips connected, disconnected then connected again.

Fireworks were shooting in Harry's head, causing the black behind his eyelids to explode into little bursts of white. Thinking back, Harry realised it was probably the alcohol (as it was, his lips were so numb from the booze he couldn't really feel Draco's on his at all), but drunk as he was he thought that kissing Draco was the _best thing ever_ and he greedily pushed up closer to him and ran his tongue across his bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. Without any hesitation, Draco opened his mouth and allowed Harry's tongue in to stroke his own tentatively. Both boys were breathing heavily through their noses and were letting out little keening noises as they tasted the ale on each other's breath.

Without thinking past _'more more more', _Harry tugged Draco's hips down to grind their crotches together and moaned embarrassingly loudly as clothed hardened flesh met clothed hardened flesh. The alcohol hadn't numbed _that_ then. Without breaking their kiss, Harry turned them over and pushed Draco into the floor, settling between the blonde's spread legs, rocking slowly against his groin. Harry pulled away only to move his lips onto Draco's neck and finally do everything to it that he'd been trying to do the whole evening, leaving red and purple love bites as he nipped and licked the taut skin. Draco mewled and ran his hands through Harry's untamed hair, then tugged his head up to meet Draco's lips again.

There was a polite cough from behind them and the boys froze. They pulled their mouths away from each other's and Draco looked up at Harry nervously, biting his lip. Harry smiled down at Draco with foggy eyes, though he tried to seem as sober and reassuring as he could. He crouched back on the balls of his feet and pulled Draco up as well, the momentum of the action forcing Draco into his arms.

"I take it that you like me back then?" Harry murmured into Draco's ear. Draco smirked and nodded with a raised eyebrow as if to say _'obviously_', before they both turned, grinning stupidly, to look at the circle of people around them.

~.oOo.~

**Chapter End.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I still can't believe it. _Malfoy_! Even though he's not a git anymore, he's still _Malfoy_, Harry!" Ron cried out in the Gryffindor common room. News of the spin the bottle at the previous week's party had spread like wild fire, and Harry had struggled to beat the gossip in order to tell his friends personally, rather than have them find out through rumours. It had been 6 days and Ron still couldn't get his head around the fact that one, his best friend was gay (although Harry had protested and said he was bi, Ron had overruled him with the fact that he was currently dating a man meaning he was in a gay relationship therefore was gay. Harry had insisted that that wasn't how it worked, but Ron couldn't listen to him through his ranting over the fact that Harry was now '_dating Draco Malfoy, Harry! Malfoy!'_), and two, said gay best friend was going out with his ex-arch nemesis who had suddenly turned nice. Well, as nice as a cat with its fur stroked the wrong way was ever going to get.

"Well I think it's wonderful that you two are finally able to get along." Hermione said as she knitted a hat for S.P.E.W which she was still trying to keep up. Harry and Ron always gave each other worried glances whenever she got the knitting needles out, concerned that Hermione was forgetting that Dobby was the only one who ever wore what she made and that he was dead now. They didn't want her setting herself up for a fall, but Harry wasn't willing to upset her by bringing it up, and Ron had tried talking to her privately about it and always returned sighing and shaking his head at Harry's hopeful looks. Hermione would nearly always come back in with red eyes and she would calmly put the knitting away for a little while as she read a book, Ron slinging an arm around her shoulder and rubbing it soothingly with his thumb. Sometimes with all the cheer in his life right now, it was easy to forget about the war. Being so far away from London and Grimmauld Place where the loss of those who had died was the most acute, it was scary how one could slip into the daily routine of school and not think twice about it. Of course, Hogwarts was also one of the hardest places to forget about the war, and they were reminded every time they walked past house elves rebuilding walls, every time they ate a meal and saw Professor McGonagall in the Head's position and Professor Frader's sunnier disposition replacing Snape's. They were muddling through, though, Harry knew it would take time. He still woke frequently in the middle of the night, panting from nightmares, but he equally dreamed of Draco and a future scene in a garden somewhere unknown where he, Ron and Hermione are having a picnic and a great black dog is bouncing around as the Hogwarts Express drives through the field without tracks, making sense in ways that only dreams do.

"'_Get along_'? Hermione, they're shagging!" Ron cried, not dropping his tirade. Hermione sighed and put down her knitting needles.

"Ron. Draco has changed, has he not?"

"Yeah, but –"

"And he's actually a decent fellow who just has a different sense of humour than you're used to?"

"Well, yeah, the guy's _funny_ but that doesn't mean –"

"And he obviously cares for Harry."

"I guess, but _still –_"

"Then _what_ is there to complain about?" Hermione looked at her boyfriend accusingly, arms crossed and tapping her foot as she waited. Ron threw his hands up in defeat.

"Fine! _Fine_! I'll allow you to shag Malfoy, just don't tell me details, alright?" Ron cried out huffily. Harry smirked,

"Thank you for your _permission_, Ron. I'll just go off and tell Draco the _good news_." He stood up and walked over to the portrait hole hearing Ron mutter to Hermione, just before he left,

"The ferret's rubbed off on him, he has."

Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map from his robe pocket and scanned the grounds quickly for his boyfriend. Draco tended to spend more time outside, where it was open and in the public eye with less chance of him being attacked, than in the castle where there were thousands of corridors and hidden rooms and passages where anyone could easily stash an unconscious body. Harry found it upsetting that Draco still couldn't walk around without the fear of being beaten up, but they were working on it one step at a time; most of Gryffindor house counted him as one of their own, and would stop to say hello if they passed him (especially as Draco was now dating their Quidditch hero) and he, Ron and Hermione had become his constant companions. It was only when they had to be in their separate common rooms and with their Houses that they were apart; even at meal times Draco had to sit at his house table after Professor Frader approached him and told him that, though it was good to see he was mixing, it was against school rules to 'invade other house's areas'.

Harry spotted a tiny scrawl that read '_Draco Malfoy'_ next to the lake. He smiled and started a jog in the direction of the lake.

"Hey handsome." Harry said as he sat down next to Draco and gave him a peck on the lips. The couple had decided not to try to hide their relationship from the school. The whole of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw and most of Hufflepuff knew and accepted it now (though the main reason why people didn't speak up if they had a problem was because they were dealing with _the_ Harry Potter). It was only the Slytherins who refused to believe their old prince was a poof, convinced that Harry had tricked Draco into the relationship, or that Draco was doing it so he could enact some sort of _revenge_ upon Harry. Harry tried not to think on it too much as he knew that it still got to Draco. Despite all his assurances otherwise, Harry knew that Draco still cared about his reputation and that it hurt to see people that he had previously counted as something close to friends, being so cruel and unaccepting now, though it wasn't entirely unexpected. The good side of being out to the school was that they didn't really have anyone to whom the news could get leaked to. Both of Draco's parents were in prison, both of Harry's dead, and Ron had already assured Harry that none of the Weasleys would care about him being 'gay'. Harry had worried that they might be averse to _who_ he was dating, but Ginny had told him to shut up and stop being stupid, which Harry had promptly done. As for the papers, Harry didn't give two shits about them. They had more important things to be reporting on than his love life, and if they thought it was worthy of the paper then the paper was trash in the first place.

"Hey gorgeous." Draco smiled into the kiss and then sighed, leaning against Harry's frame and looking out at the lake wistfully.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, drawing patterns on the palm of Draco's hand that he held in his lap.

"It's Blaise." Draco sighed again, "He's 'reinstated' me as the leader of the group because he thinks I'm going out with you to use you and get revenge for locking our families up." Harry smirked, amused. He'd heard this theory through the rumour mill a few days ago, but had wanted to wait for Draco to feel comfortable enough to talk to him about it.

"Hmm. What are you going to do to me then, Mr. Big Bad Slytherin?" Harry asked, pulling Draco's hand up to his mouth to give it a peck. Draco smiled, but it fell quickly from his face. Harry frowned and let their hands fall onto his thigh.

"Hey, so Slytherin has its prince back then?" He asked.

"In a matter of name, yes." Draco sighed. "I don't have to worry about people attacking me anymore, but I just wish that they could see this relationship for what it is, rather than what they think." He leant his head against Harry's shoulder, "I mean, I've been obsessed with you for years now! I thought it was just because no one _ever_ rejected the hand of friendship of a _Malfoy_," he puffed up his chest and then seemed to deflate, "but I figured by fourth year, it was probably something more…I hated you for that. Maybe that's why I've been so angry for the past few years."

Harry sat in silence and listened as he let Draco offload. He and Draco had never talked about their feelings for each other before, bar Harry's question after spin the bottle, and although they were very much _infatuated_ with each other, their relationship hadn't really been considered something serious that would last past graduation, they'd only been going out a week, after all and it was still September. "And then I saw you, supposedly dead, in the giant's arms and I felt myself break inside. When you defeated Voldemort and my parents were taken from me, I was so confused from my rapid succession of changing and conflicting emotions that I think I just drew a shell around myself. I withdrew and only interacted with others in ways that I knew would hurt them."

"You thought compassion was a flaw." Harry stated, hugging the blonde to him. God, but the Malfoy upbringing had really screwed him up. Draco nodded against his shoulder.

"Yes. And then you and the other Gryffindorks came along and showed me how warm compassion could be." He smiled at Harry, looking a little awkward as he did so and Harry decided a change of subject was required.

"Speaking of compassion, Ron's shown his, at last. He said he's finally approved of us." Harry said, chuckling to himself. Draco sniggered,

"How generous of him."

"That's what I said."

"I seem to be rubbing off on you."

"That's what _he_ said." Harry smirked, "And I certainly wouldn't complain to having you rub yourself off on me." He whispered hoarsely into Draco's ear. Draco smacked Harry round the back of his head playfully and stood up, stretching.

"Let's go on a walk somewhere." He said, holding his hand out for Harry to take. "It's a beautiful summer evening and it's the weekend tomorrow. Let's enjoy it." Harry grabbed his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He slipped his arm around Draco's waist and kissed his temple.

"I never deemed you to be such a romantic."

"You never deemed me to be your boyfriend. Things change. Sim –"

"Let me guess." Harry interrupted. "Simple as?" Draco smiled, and pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's lips.

"Simple as."

~.oOo.~

"What're you doing for the Christmas holidays, Draco?" Harry asked as he, Ron, Hermione and Draco (whom they had snuck in under Harry's cloak) sat in front of the fire the week before the holidays began. Harry and Draco had been going out for 3 months now and the Slytherins current theory was that Draco was going to kidnap Harry during the holidays and torture him in unthinkable ways until Harry agreed to use his power to release all of their parents and return to them their fortunes and heirlooms that were repossessed. Fat chance.

"Probably staying here. I could go home, but it's not like I'd have anything to do there. At least I can explore the castle here." Draco answered, shrugging within Harry's embrace.

"Right then. I'm staying too." Hermione looked up from her textbook she had been revising from.

"But Harry, Molly invited you over for Christmas."

"Yeah, Mum'll have a fit if you don't come." Ron added.

"One holiday away from her won't kill her." Harry said adamantly, "I want to spend my Christmas with my boyfriend." He tightened his grip on Draco protectively.

"Don't worry about me, Harry. I don't want to cause you any unrest with the Weasley's." Draco protested, "Though they cause enough unrest by themselves." He added in a voice low enough so only Harry could hear. Harry smiled but still said,

"No. We are going to spend Christmas together."

"I could always ask Mum if Malfoy could come too…" Ron trailed off anxiously, casting looks at Hermione. All four of them could see how well that would go down. Ron sighed. "Fine, fine, just don't blame me when you get a howler." Harry grinned and kissed the tip of Draco's nose.

"A Christmas just for us."

~.oOo.~

"Bye guys! Have a good Christmas! And a happy New Year! I'll send you your presents via owl on the day, okay?" Harry called out, waving goodbye to his friends as they left Hogwarts after their final dinner of the year. "Tell everyone I said hi, and apologise to Molly, won't you?" There were similar cries of goodbye as everyone but a few Hufflepuff third years, one sixth year Ravenclaw, a red faced first year Gryffindor, Harry and Draco left for the holidays. When the crowds were out of sight, Harry dropped his hand that he had been waving with and caught Draco's in it.

"It's technically the holiday's now…school rules don't apply. What d'you want to do?" Harry asked as the five other boarders filed past them, ignoring the public display of affection they were so used to.

"Chess?" Draco asked, smiling.

"Sure." Harry said as he smiled back, and walked with the blonde to Gryffindor tower.

~.oOo.~

Three games later and Harry had decided that chess was really not his thing.

"You honestly don't know how to play, do you?" Draco sneered.

"Shove off," Harry grumbled, continuing under his breath, "I only learnt how to play in first year, and when you play against Ron there's no chance of you ever being allowed to practise any techniques. You're just smashed straight away." He didn't even care how petulant he sounded. Draco wasn't playing fair, just like Ron never played fair. It wasn't _fair_.

"The Weasel is good at chess?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Yeah." He mumbled, staring at the pieces on the board in vain hope that some long-lost chess-master gene may be unlocked if he looked at it long enough. "His chess skills are one of the reasons that we managed to stop Quirrell back in first year." Harry said, grudgingly proud of his friend.

"You mentioned Quirrell before…what did you mean?" Draco asked and it struck Harry that he had never told Draco the whole story of everything that had happened to him at Hogwarts. He felt like he'd been with Draco for so long that the blonde had just been there the whole time.

"Well, if you're ready for a long story then I can tell you."

"Hold on." Draco got up, moved around the table where the chessboard was and sat on Harry's lap, cautiously avoiding Barney who was wrapped around Harry's shoulders. "Can't believe I have to share my boyfriend with a snake." Draco grumbled as he made himself comfortable. Harry grinned and kissed the pout that Draco was pulling. "I'm ready now." The prince declared and Harry leapt into his story.

He told Draco all about Quirrell, Tom Riddle and his diary and the fraudster that was Gilderoy Lockhart (Draco awkwardly admitted to having had a grossly inappropriate crush on the man which had made Harry laugh and mentally thank his stars that Lockhart was locked in St. Mungos and didn't remember who Draco was. He had grown up from that 12 year old to be quite a hunk). With slightly more difficulty, Harry choked out the story of the Marauders (during this he pulled out the map and showed it to Draco), the graveyard in fourth year and the Ministry in fifth. They took a break to ask the elves for some tea and biscuits as Draco tensed up at the memories of his father in that period of his life. It was that summer that Draco had been given his task to kill Dumbledore and Harry needed some time to recollect himself after talking about Sirius's death as just another fact in a long list of stories. Eventually he moved on to the cave he and Dumbledore went to in sixth year and all about horcruxes. The last one he had been anxious to talk about, and was relieved that Draco looked disgusted at the mention of the dark magic rather than intrigued, and then he wanted to kick himself for thinking Draco would be anything like Voldemort. Even his own father hadn't tried to make a horcrux and Harry felt dirty for comparing his boyfriend to the man who murdered his family. When it got to the previous year, he and Draco swapped stories. Draco told him what it had been like in school with the Carrows. He had heard it all before, of course, from Neville but he had never heard it from a Death Eater's perspective and he found himself sickly interested as he listened to the twisted darkness that Draco had taken part in. Harry in turn told him of his, Ron and Hermione's travels before and after they were captured and taken to Malfoy manor, including everything about his journey into the forest. They finished with a shaky kiss, both needing to reassure one another that this didn't change their feelings, didn't change them as a couple even though it had changed them as individuals so greatly.

Draco was silent for a good five minutes until he said, "So you had to die, because you were part V-Voldemort?" He asked. Harry nodded. "And that's why you can speak to snakes?" Harry nodded again.

"I, for one, am grateful that you can talk to snakes, Harry." Barney hissed flicking his tongue against Harry's cheek. Draco shot the snake a death glare.

"I wouldn't lick me too much while Draco's around, Barney." Harry warned, "It seems he has no qualms about getting jealous over familiars."

"But he's _always_ around." Barney grumbled.

"Please, for me? I really care about him."

"Fine. But might I remind you that it was _me_ who stuck their tongue in his ear just so you two could get close." Barney hissed unhappily, and slunk off to coil up and sleep by the fire which was his third favourite place after Harry's shoulders and Harry's bed. Draco eyed Barney carefully.

"What did you tell him?" He said nervously, reminding Harry of the scared first year he was in their detention in the Forbidden Forest. Harry smiled and turned Draco's head around so he could kiss him on the mouth.

"Told him you got jealous easily." He murmured against Draco's lips and pulled him in again, prising his mouth open and flicking his tongue into the blonde's mouth. Draco made that little noise again into Harry's mouth and turned around in his lap so he was straddling him.

"Are we getting presents for each other this year?" Draco asked between kisses.

"Nah, haven't had a chance to go out, and now that I have you all to myself, I'm not planning on leaving the castle for a _very_ long time." Harry replied, moving his lips down Draco's neck, following bites with soothing laps of his tongue, as he ran his hands up underneath his shirt.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that." Draco hummed in satisfaction as Harry pushed his shirt up and licked one of Draco's nipples, watching it pebble as he blew cold air onto it. Harry tugged it gently with his teeth and Draco gasped. "Harry…can we…?" Smirking, Harry scooped the thinner boy into his arms and ran up the stairs to the eighth year boys' room. He dumped Draco unceremoniously onto his bed and then stood back and stripped off his shirt and jeans before crawling back over Draco and leaning down to kiss him again. He pushed Draco's T-shirt up with both hands and then trailed one down his abdomen and over his clothed erection that was straining against his trousers in a way that looked painful.

"You want some help getting out of these?" Harry asked up next to Draco's ear as he rubbed his palm up and down the blond's bulge.

"Yes, please, _please_." Draco groaned out through gritted teeth as he squirmed around underneath Harry, his hands trapped and bound by his shirt around his wrists. Harry undid the belt buckle and the button and then slid down Draco's body and unzipped his trousers with his teeth (and damn it if that seemed easier to do in his head), smirking as he saw the small wet patch of pre-cum on his boyfriend's underwear. Harry then tugged his own and Draco's boxers off and threw them away, not caring where they landed. Looking at Draco, naked apart from his trapped wrists, and how hot for it he was, Harry thought that his boyfriend had a kinky liking for having a bit of control taken off his hands and placed in someone else's whom he trusted. Lying down and aligning their cocks, Harry kissed Draco on the forehead, then moved around to his ear and all but growled his next words, channelling all the authority he had into them.

"This is not up for negotiation." Harry snarled as he thrust their cocks together. He nibbled Draco's lobe a little to take the sting out of the words, but Draco had made that _noise_ again and Harry knew he had guessed right. "I am going to fuck you," he breathed, gently rubbing one of Draco's nipples with his thumb. "I'm gonna fuck you in the bed I've been sleeping in for eight years. You know how many dreams of you I've had in these sheets? How many times I've jerked off, thinking of you in here with me?" Draco made his little cut off noise again, but louder and clenched his fists in the sheets above his head. Harry pressed wet open mouthed kisses down his pale neck until he reached his collarbone and bit down just shy of hard enough to draw blood. He licked the bruise as he slid his wand out of the holster he had on his arm. With a whispered spell and the widening of Draco's eyes he knew that the blonde was stretched, cleaned and lubricated. Harry smiled and slid down his boyfriend's body again, spreading the cheeks of his arse and flicking his tongue out and laving Draco's hole enthusiastically, becoming unbelievably excited at the sounds the Slytherin was making.

"Harry," He panted, "Now." Even breathless, Draco managed to sound like a prince ordering his subjects around, and Harry had to hide his grin against Draco's inner thigh. God he was so lucky that this ridiculously posh boy was his.

"Tell me what you want, Draco." Harry wasn't going to make it easy for him as he moved back up his body, replacing his mouth with his fingers as he stretched Draco. There was no way he was risking the Slytherin's safety just so he could get his rocks off faster. Besides, there were other ways he knew to amuse himself in the meantime. "And be _specific_." He licked the shell of Draco's ear and then kissed his gaping and gasping mouth.

"I want you to shove your cock up inside me and fuck me." Draco said in the lowest of voices, and Harry couldn't tell if the blush on his face was from arousal or embarrassment. If it were the latter though, it didn't stop him from continuing, "I want you to fuck me and fuck me _hard_." And now Harry could sense that Draco's normal personality was slowly returning as he gained confidence in the situation, because that last word was drawled out and sounded sinful and he was thrusting down on Harry's fingers leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. '_The little_ _minx!_'Harry thought as he looked back up at Draco and saw him smirking before changing his expression and looking up at him from under his eyelashes, batting them playfully, biting his lip and upping his coy-virgin act as much as possible. Harry raised his eyebrows and abruptly pulled his fingers out, grinning in victory when that broke Draco's act and the blond frowned, quickly shifting to wrap his legs around Harry's waist, tugging him in closely and wiggling his hips to try to slip Harry inside him himself. Harry snorted and grinned and Draco sent him a glare which made him grin harder and Harry had to remind himself that he was trying to be in control here, because Draco was pouting and his hair was ruffled like nothing else and Harry had never wanted to melt and give in as much as he did just then. Instead, he took a steadying breath and gripped Draco's hips to guide him into the right position before gently easing himself in. As Draco let out something closer to a scream than his normal sound, Harry clenched his jaw and scrunched his eyes shut to stop from thrusting in and bottoming out in one go. Despite the stretching charm, he was so _tight_. And the heat! Harry could never have, even in his wildest and wettest dreams, imagined anything to be so hot and '_Jesus Christ, I'm inside Draco, a part of my body is literally _inside_ him and-'_

"Fuck, Draco!" Harry cried as he slid all the way in to his hilt, unable to hold back as the realisation that he was _inside_ his boyfriend slammed home. He leaned over the blond with a hand on either side of him as he panted. "Are you okay?" He asked, breathlessly, already feeling his hips start to grind in tiny little circles and he knew he should stop until Draco confirmed, but sweet Merlin, he couldn't have even if someone was holding a wand to his head.

"Yeah," Draco replied, just as breathlessly and Harry felt relief shoot down his spine and into his hips which started to pick up pace until Draco was repeating 'yes' again and again until he broke on a keening, "_Fuck_." And Harry laughed and said,

"That's the idea." And Draco tried to glare, but instead he smiled and Harry couldn't have thought of a time when he looked more beautiful, apart from maybe when he fell asleep against Harry's shoulder in the common room once, or when he was sneering and lording over him when he had got a better mark in his Defence homework than Harry had, or maybe even that dinner that had started it all where he had forgotten his table manners for about half a minute and just shoved all the chocolate mousse he could get his hands on into his mouth and – _fuck it_ – Draco was always beautiful to Harry and he was so damned _lucky_.

Harry started to tease him by thrusting in hard and quickly, building up to the blond's orgasm before slowing and taking it away again. Half of it was luck and the other half was him slowly learning what the clenching around him signaled, and Harry couldn't wait until this was over and they could do it again and he could learn all about Draco's body for the rest of forever, apart from this felt really fucking good and he'd rather it never ended, please. But then Draco cried, "Please, Harry, _please_ let me cum!" and he wrenched his hands from his twisted shirt and scratched down Harry's back, hard, and who was Harry to deny Draco anything? So he groaned and started to thrust faster and faster, hitting Draco's prostate (almost) every time until he felt Draco clamp down on him and the walls around him ripple and convulse as Draco came hard, shooting his load up his chest and even managing to get the underside of his chin as he arched his head back. Harry moaned out at the sight and came as he felt himself be milked of every last drop he had, clutching Draco to him hard enough that he left finger-shaped bruises on his hips. He would have felt guilty for bruising him so much in such a short space of time, but he could feel heat on his back and he was pretty sure Draco's claw-like fingernails had drawn blood. He gently rocked out the rest of his orgasm before collapsing on top of and slipping out of his near-comatose lover who was lying there, his arms limp by his sides, eyes half closed and heavy lidded, focusing on his breathing and his chest rose and fell with huge gulps of air.

Harry watched Draco's cum glisten as it moved with his chest and he curiously leant up and licked some off, testing the flavour and trying not to pull a face at the bizarre taste. He kissed Draco, open mouthed and heavy and let him taste himself before pulling away and pecking his way up to Draco's forehead. "Draco…" he whispered,

"Hm?" Draco drawled back, managing to make even a hum sound dirty. Or maybe that was just after what they'd done. Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to hear Draco drawl again without thinking of the way his voice had sounded, the way he had _moved_ when he had said the word 'hard'. He breathed out shakily. This boy was ruinous.

"That was amazing." He exhaled, "_You're_ amazing." He kissed him again. "I couldn't have asked for a better first time."

"I was your first?" Draco asked, voice hoarse from screaming and how had Harry not even noticed him shouting out when he came? Harry nodded. Draco beamed a smile so bright that Harry felt like he had to wear sunglasses in the dim lighting of the room, but that may have been down to the amazing sex as well. "You were mine too, well, you were my first with me bottoming." Harry grinned at that, inordinately pleased with himself. He could tell already that he was going to be walking the stride of pride for the next few days. And Draco would probably get all flustered but wouldn't admit to it and would instead just say that Harry was being a dumb Gryffindork, and Harry would say something stupid like 'Yeah but I'm a dumb Gryffindork that made you cum on your own face.' and Draco would get pissed off and then, _then_ they'd get to have equally amazing make-up sex. Harry grinned and couldn't wait.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?"

"Mmm, I know." Draco agreed sleepily.

"And amazing, did I say you're amazing?"

"You did. And _you're_ easy to please." Draco smiled, his eyes falling shut. "I'm tired, too. And so _comfortable_." Harry grinned wider and managed to manoeuvre the duvet over the top of them both. He rolled them over to the side and kissed his sleepy Draco on his eyelids, nose and, finally, mouth.

"G'night, my prince." He murmured into the quiet of the room and if Draco got offended by his cheek, he didn't show it.

"Night, Harry." Draco mumbled, pressing in closer to bury his face in Harry's chest, "I love you." Harry froze for a split second as warmth settled into his heart, and he knew it was cheesy because who made love declarations straight after sex? Wasn't there even a saying about sex and love declarations and how they're not to be trusted? But Harry didn't care because it may be cheesy, but it was _their_ cheese and he figured if he was going to like any kind of cheese it would be their own, so he honestly replied,

"I love you, too."

~.oOo.~

Harry did indeed do his stride of pride over the next few days, and Draco grouched through all of it, drawing horrible comparisons between Harry and the peacocks at Malfoy manor. When the inevitable 'Gryffindork' comment came up, Harry was so eager to deliver the retort he'd thought up back when he'd first envisioned this situation, that he blurted it out in the Gryffindor common room in front of the ruddy-faced first year. Harry maybe hadn't quite counted on just how angry Draco would be in his embarrassment and it ended up being their first fight, on Christmas Eve of all days. Draco had returned to Slytherin for the rest of the day and Harry had sat outside the wall that hid the common room talking at it, map open on his lap and showing the _'Draco Malfoy_' dot stationary, just on the other side of the entrance. He sat there and apologised until he couldn't apologise anymore and lapsed into just saying whatever was in his head. Eventually the night crept in and he got so cold that his jaws were chattering and he apologised one last time before retiring to bed in Gryffindor because he couldn't hold his wand straight, let alone cast a warming charm. He had returned to his dormitory and noticed that the clock had ticked over to 2am and it was Christmas, and he realised that he hadn't even wished Draco a happy one. Sighing, he crawled into his warm but empty bed and tried to get to sleep whilst berating himself, using as many Draco and Snape-approved insults as possible. Barney tried hissing the story out of him, but Harry was too caught up in his own moping to try to explain it to the snake. Sleep proved unachievable until a warm body slipped in behind him and pressed their cold feet against his calves, and he jumped and grumbled but his heart wasn't in it because _Draco had come back_ and was sliding his arm over his chest and mumbling "dumb Gryffindork" into his hair and suddenly sleep was the easiest thing in the world.

The next day, Draco wore a T-shirt for the first time and Harry worried that the blond thought Harry's extra tactility was due to him overly reassuring Draco that the Dark Mark didn't scare him, but frankly, Draco had really fit arms and all the wild hippogriffs in the world wouldn't have kept him away. They did indeed have make up sex, and it was indeed amazing, and it was also repeated four more times on as many beds, and even though Harry didn't think he'd be able to look any of his dorm-mates in the eye for a long time, he couldn't bring himself to care.

~.oOo.~

Boxing day dawned bright and early with Harry sitting up straight in bed (whose bed it was, he didn't take time to notice. It may have been Neville's, or possibly Dean's), dislodging the sleeping Draco he had had on his chest, with a shout of,

"Oh shit, we didn't owl any presents to anyone!" He jumped out of bed and threw on the nearest clothes he could find, pretty sure that half of them were Draco's.

"Don't lump me in with your lot, Potter," Draco sneered as he snagged the pillow Harry had been sleeping on and curled around it, "_I_ sent _my_ season's cards to Mother and Father yesterday."

"When the bloody hell did you find time?" Harry spun around, hopping on one foot as he tried to sock the other one and stared at his boyfriend incredulously. "No, doesn't matter, I have to get to the owlery." Shoes hurriedly shoved on and bag of presents in hand, Harry ran from the dorm leaving the door wide open behind him.

"I went after the feast whilst you went and prepared the Prefect's bathroom for us!" Draco called after him and heard a somewhat noise of confirmation from the common room before he lazily waved his wand and shut the door. Returning to his pillow-Harry, he slid down under the covers until he felt enveloped by warmth on all sides. It wasn't quite the same, but it would have to do.

~.oOo.~

"Does it get easier?" Draco and Harry were curled up by the fire in the common room a few days later, the first year suspiciously absent as he had been since he witnessed the screaming match they had had on Christmas Eve. Harry was reading a book on Quidditch that Ron had sent him for Christmas, and Draco was reading one on chess that he had bought for himself through a catalogue to be delivered on Christmas day by owl. Harry hadn't asked, but he thought it was meant as a replacement for the fact that he'd not be receiving anything from anyone else that year. Looking at their respective book titles, he wondered if this was the reason Draco was so much better at chess than him. He didn't really care either way, because fact in case, he was still better at Quidditch than Draco was, even if neither of them were allowed to play on the teams as eighth years.

"Does what get easier?" He asked, looking up from an image of the Chaser Gallagher doing a mean looking dive for the quaffle back in the World Cup of '87. The only pictures Draco's book had were images of chess manoeuvres. He frowned, wondering if that said something about them as well.

"Spending Yuletide without a family." Removing his attention from their books entirely, Harry looked at Draco. The blond was carefully avoiding meeting his eyes, but he was facing him at least and he hadn't ducked his head, which was an improvement on the beginning of the year. The question sunk in at last and Harry's heart melted. _'Oh, Draco…'_ Maintaining a blank expression, he replied,

"Oh." Eloquent. "Um, I don't really remember to be honest. I've not been without a family since I was 11." Harry hadn't really known what his answer was going to be until he said it, and he was shocked that that was what had come out his mouth. It was true though. Ever since the Weasley's had entered his life, he had always had a surrogate family. An itching feeling of guilt crept up on him. Maybe he and Draco shouldn't have had sex in Ron's bed…or Harry should at least have remembered to send their gifts off on time. One or the other.

"Oh." Draco suddenly seemed very small and very lonely, and Harry used the arm he had wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer until Draco's head softly bopped against his chest.

"Hey, but we're each other's family now." He pressed a kiss against Draco's temple and wondered how he ever could have thought Ginny's shampoo was nice when he had Draco's for comparison. He smelt of Harry's shower gel though. And Harry's shaving foam. And he was pretty sure that the socks he was wearing were Harry's as well. He hoped he never grew used to the thrill that ran through his heart when his possessive side was appeased by such little things. He could easily get drunk off the feeling. "You'll always have me." He squeezed the blond tightly and heard a tiny 'I love you' come forth. Harry murmured his requisite response of 'I love you, too' and carded his fingers through Draco's hair. Draco could be as chess-smart and I'm-an-adult-I-don't-read-picture-books as he wanted to, so long as he never denied Harry the privilege of stroking his hair.

~.oOo.~

A small feast was held on New Year's Eve, headed by Professor McGonagall inviting them out to the lake after dinner for a fireworks display. Draco had frowned and sent a questioning raised eyebrow at Harry from across the table, and he could tell when he reached the same conclusion Harry had. As far as Harry could gather, New Year's wasn't as big of a tradition in the Wizarding world as it was for Muggles, but then he figured that this year definitely warranted a form of celebration, or perhaps remembrance. It felt like eons ago that the war had ended; so much had changed in the last four months, so many people had relaxed back into life and were enjoying the freedom of not always having to look over their shoulders, but then it was true that they were in a microclimate all of their own at Hogwarts. They were in a bubble of safety from the harsh reality of a world living through a post-war period and Harry reached out to interlace his legs with Draco's. Everything had been going so right for them, he didn't want to think about the inevitable day when their bubble popped, and they were thrust back into the real world where reporters would stalk Harry's every move just because they could, and Draco would have doors of opportunity slammed shut in his face at every turn because of a decision that was made for him when he was 16.

After dinner they made a stop at the kitchens and snagged a bottle of wine before making the trip down to the lake with the few students and staff that had remained. The first year Gryffindor blushed beetroot when he saw the pair of them, and hurried on ahead to make harried conversation with Hagrid as the half-giant's strides ate up the yards between them and the lake.

Draco swung the wine bottle in one hand and snagged Harry's hand in the other and they huddled in close with the rest of those present, needing the proximity as they welcomed in 1999. The teachers turned a blind eye to the two of them swigging from the bottle and Draco spent half the show watching the fireworks explode above them, the other half watching the colours explode over Harry's awed expression, falling in love all over again with the glorified Muggle boy.

~.oOo.~

"Mmm, Harry stop, I'll see you after dinner, I _really_ have to go!" Draco detached himself from his boyfriend's lips and pushed lightly against his chest. "My Arithmancy lesson is about to start!" Harry leant in again. "_Harry_!" Draco sighed exasperated.

"Please, Draco, just one more kiss?" He asked, pulling his best puppy-dog eyed look yet. Draco melted and rolled his eyes.

"One more. _One_. I mean it, Potter." He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Harry's. Almost instantly Harry prised his mouth open and shoved his tongue into his mouth. Just as Draco began to feel his head buzz comfortably from lack of oxygen he opened his eyes wide and shoved Harry away from him.

"No!" Draco said breathily, "Harry James Potter I will _not_ let you entrap me into being late for Arithmancy. Now I will see you _later_." He tugged himself out of Harry's grasp, turned and quickly walked away (Malfoy's didn't _run_).

"I love you!" Harry called out to him across the courtyard. Draco looked over his shoulder, smiled and mouthed 'I love you, too', before turning again and entering the castle.

"Sickening. The pair of you." Ron grouched from where he was sitting on a bench. "Ever since we came back after Christmas it's been 'I love you this' and 'I love you that'. _Every_ _time_ you say goodbye to each other it's 'I love you'! You're going to see him in a few hours! It's not like anything's going to happen in _Arithmancy_." He paused, "Well, he might die of _boredom_, but that's a risk he must be willing to take if he's crazy enough to take the damned subject."

"You do realise your girlfriend is also 'crazy enough to take the damned subject'?" Harry said, coming to sit down next to his friend.

"Yeah well that's _Hermione_. The girl loves to learn." He grinned proudly.

"Uh-huh." Harry said, not paying any attention to Ron as he continued to rant about how amazing his girlfriend was.

It was now nearing the end of January. As Ron said, after the first time Harry and Draco had announced their love for each other, they had been adding it in at any possible moment. He hadn't noticed it so much when it was just them two and the phantom-first-year in Gryffindor tower all holiday, but since term recommenced Ron had made it his personal mission to point out every time they said it. Harry had never felt so light and happy in his life. Ron told him it was just the 'honeymoon period' and they'd soon start getting on each other's nerves, but Harry knew better. They had spent seven whole _years_ of getting on each other's nerves, every single day, day in day out, they had spat and hissed and kicked and screamed and hexed and cursed and insulted each other. That was enough to make up for all the few and far between lover's spats that were bound to appear in any relationship. So long as Harry started checking the other occupants in a room before making comments, he couldn't imagine him and Draco ever moving on from the 'honeymoon period'. Personally, Harry thought that Ron was still moping over the forgotten Christmas present saga. He, thankfully, was still unaware of the sights his bed had seen and Harry and Draco had been very careful not to make it obvious that they'd shagged on every bed in the eighth year's boys dormitory. Even so, Harry was pretty sure Seamus knew something from the wicked glance he had sent his way the moment they all walked in after the holidays.

"Harry? Harry!" Harry looked up. "Were you even listening to a thing I said?" Ron asked, moodily. Honestly, most of the time he was grumpier than Draco.

"No, but I can summarise it all. Let me guess, Hermione is amazing?" Harry replied, smiling. Ron grinned bashfully, the tips of his ears going red.

"I do that a lot, huh?"

"Just a bit." Harry nudged his friend in the ribs, "But it just shows how much you love her." He paused, "It would be nice if you could see the same for me and Draco. You and Hermione talk to me about how much you love each other but never say it to each other, Draco and I talk to each other about how much we love each other, but we never say it to anyone else. It's just a different way of doing the same thing."

"Hermione talks to you about how much she loves me?" Ron asked, visibly cheerier. Harry groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

"That's not the point, Ron." Ron was quiet for a while and then said.

"Yeah. Yeah alright then, I won't complain anymore." Ron went silent again and screwed his face up in thought. When he sat like that for a good minute Harry sighed again.

"What is it?"

"What's what?"

"You're obviously thinking about something, and, frankly, it looks painful. Knut for your thoughts?" Harry asked, settling down onto the bench comfortably for what was bound to be a long few minutes of silent indecision on Ron's behalf.

He was right.

No less and no more than three further minutes later, Ron finally opened his mouth to speak.

"I know I'm only 17 and Hermione's only 18, but I was thinking…I was thinking of, y'know, proposing. Once I turn 18 in March, so it gives her and Mum loads of time to plan so she can have her wedding in winter like she's always wanted." Ron's ears were pink and he looked up at Harry more bashfully than he ever had in the course of their friendship, and Harry grinned from ear to ear.

"Ron, that's brilliant! But why wait till March? You're both over 17, you're technically allowed to get married now under Wizarding law." '_And Muggle as well, but it requires parental consent and Hermione doesn't have that since she obliviated herself from her parents' memories.'_ Harry added in his head. They wouldn't need to be married in the Muggle world anyway. They would wear the rings and that would be enough. Ron blushed and mumbled something under his breath. "What?" Harry asked.

"I want to be the same age as her for when I propose." He gushed out, cheeks turning red along with his ears. Harry had always found it endearing how Ron's ears blushed more than his face did. "I don't care if she's 19 when it's the actual wedding, but I don't want to be younger than her when I ask her." Harry laughed at Ron's logic and patted him on the back sympathetically. He supposed it was probably traditional, or something. Maybe something purebloods do, or maybe just a general stereotype that the husband had to be older than the wife.

"Just let me know when you're going to do it, alright? And if you need any help setting stuff up, you know who to ask. Oh, and I expect to be your best man." Harry grinned.

"Who _else_ would I ask?" Ron huffed, looking put out. Harry just smiled and they relapsed into a comfortable silence. Then a thought struck Harry.

"You should get Hermione to make Draco her Maid of Honour." Ron looked confused for a few seconds then pulled a disgusted face.

"I thought I told you _not_ to give me details of your sex life!" He wailed as the mental images snowballed his brain.

"Just a suggestion." Harry shrugged, grinning impishly. _'Marriage, huh?_' He thought to himself while Ron did a brilliant impression of a wet dog as he tried to visibly shake the pictures from his head.

~.oOo.~

**Chapter End.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Since the Christmas holidays, Draco had all but moved himself in to Gryffindor. It proved to be a bit of a learning curve for both Barney and Draco, and the two had more fights than Harry had thought possible when one half of the party couldn't understand the other. The Fat Lady didn't seem to care that a Slytherin knew the password – maybe as he was so close to Harry Potter – but they figured that seeing as the portrait wasn't going to squeal and the teachers didn't have their own Marauder's map, it was pretty safe for Draco to break just about every House-specific rule and stay with Harry. The couple had had to promise to cast a silencing charm if they were going to shag and had grinned at each other at the irony as their dormmates slept in beds that had experienced more than just the noises of them shagging.

The days started to get slightly warmer as they moved through February but only deemed to get wetter as spring grew closer. In this manner, March dawned bright and rainy, not quite willing to start its transition into springtime. With it, came Ron's 18th birthday and with his birthday, his imminent proposal to Hermione. He had informed Harry that he was planning on doing it in the library, by placing the ring in an empty Chocolate Frog box with a retro 1991 Dumbledore card in it. According to Ron, Hermione's connecting the dots with Nicolas Flamel was the first step in the journey of his falling in love with her. Personally, Harry believed it to be closer to the post-Lavender-Brown time period, but if Ron wanted to be romantic then Harry wasn't going to dampen his spirits. And so it was that on the 5th of March, Ron asked Hermione if she could come to the library with him to look for something. She wordlessly followed him, looking shocked that Ron remembered where the library was without her leading him.

Half an hour later they returned (and Harry wondered briefly if he was the only one that found it hilarious that they had trudged all the way to the library for Ron to show her a ring, then hiked back to the tower. He met gazes with Draco who seemed to be trying very hard to flatten out his smile and thought, _'I knew there was a reason I'm dating this boy.'_) and Hermione's eyes were sparkling as much as the new ring on her finger was.

The three boys and a snake sat around as she gushed appropriately and Harry found himself sharing worried glances with Ron as Draco joined in and started throwing around wedding plans.

'_Blue and white is incredibly overdone, but it would be gorgeous in the snow. And the blue wouldn't clash too horrendously with all the redheads that will inevitably be there.'_

'_We'll have to find someone appropriate to do your hair of course, your usual taming methods would hardly hold in the cold climate. I know some people, I'll put you through to them.'_

And,

'_Never let the man choose his own tie. Just trust me on this.'_

Once the pair of them had calmed down enough for them to move and sit next to their respective significant others, Hermione chose to lean over and say,

"Oh, by the way Draco. Ron told me I should ask you to be my maid of honour." Harry stared wide-eyed at Ron who cracked up laughing, and Draco flushed on his high cheekbones and smacked Harry, _hard_, upside the head.

~.oOo.~

It was a completely unassuming April day, just around when Hermione was starting to panic about N.E.W.T.S (at least, to the extent that if they wanted to talk to her, they had to hike to the library to do so), when the bubble popped. Harry returned to Gryffindor after Charms to find Draco curled up on their bed, immobile with Barney equally curled at his feet. He paused in the doorway to watch with a smile on his face, heart full at how much had changed over the course of the year. The smile fell from his face as Draco noticed him and leapt from the bed, essentially throwing himself at Harry who caught and held him on autopilot. He was clutching a copy of the Prophet which he sort of thrust in Harry's general direction, so he wormed it out of the blond's tight fist and read the day's headline.

_DEATH EATER FOUND DEAD IN AZKABAN PRISON: LUCIUS MALFOY, SUSPECTED SUICIDE._

Harry sank down to the thick red carpet with Draco, right there in the doorway. He held the blond tightly and stared shell-shocked at the wall above the blond's head and, _damnit_, why couldn't he be more helpful? Lucius Malfoy's composed mug shot was staring up at them and Harry angrily crumpled the paper up and threw it as far as he could. Draco was just sitting there in his arms, limp and unresponsive and Harry knew how to deal with tears and screaming and panic, but this complete silence was scaring him. He didn't know if getting Draco to talk would be helpful or not – talking was meant to be the solution to everything, wasn't it? It seemed like something Hermione would have told him – _"Communication is key, Harry!"_ – and he had to choke back a hysterical laugh because that was probably the least helpful advice in this situation possible. He hated Lucius Malfoy. He hated him for doing this to Draco, he hated him for buggering off and dying in prison and leaving Draco to deal with the consequences of his actions for the rest of his life, he hated him for the things he had done to Draco before today; hated him for getting the boy involved in the Dark Arts and giving up his home to Voldemort, hated him for _ruining_ his only son's childhood. He hated him for the hold he still had on Draco, despite not being worth the time of day and he hated him because now Harry had to tell Draco it would all be okay and he couldn't tell if that was a lie or not. Thankfully, Draco was the first to break the silence and Harry felt guilty for the selfish thought as soon as it formed in his mind.

"Mother will find out from the Prophet, too." That hadn't even occurred to Harry and he felt cold all of a sudden. Poor Narcissa. She didn't even deserve to be in that hellhole and Lucius bloody Malfoy had gone and offed himself and left his _wife_ and _child_ to find out from the bloody _newspaper_. The chill was what Harry needed to sort his head out though. He manoeuvred Draco's dead weight until the boy was curled around him like a koala and raised his chin to press soft kisses to his mouth and forehead. "They made him out to be worse than Voldemort." Draco continued in a sort of detached, Luna-esque manner and it was a sign of just how out of it Draco was, that he said 'Voldemort' without flinching. Harry personally didn't feel like Malfoy Senior was much better than Voldemort, but then he was Draco's father and he was dead, and Harry couldn't be certain that he wouldn't feel the same if he were in Draco's shoes. "They talked about his services as a Death Eater for an entire page." Harry winced. The prophet was a broadsheet newspaper. That was a lot of space to fill. "He was my _father_." Draco's voice finally cracked on the last word and he started shuddering in Harry's arms. He kept his lips pressed to Draco's forehead until the blond ducked his head to hide his face in the crook of Harry's neck. He felt the collar of his shirt grow damp and he ran his fingers through Draco's hair, murmuring platitudes about _letting it all out_ and that _he was here for him_ and feeling utterly useless.

They sat like that for the next hour and they both missed their Defence lesson, but Harry thought the teacher would understand. His priority was Draco and Draco's priority was his parents, which meant Harry's was Draco's parents as well. Once the blond had stopped shaking and his sniffs were clearing up, Harry gently pushed him away so he could cup his boyfriend's face in one hand and use the other to flutter over his perfect, aristocratic features. His eyes were puffy and his nose was stuffy and both were glowing pink. His hair was ruffled and Harry thought of all those Muggle songs about people looking beautiful when they were crying and thought how that was all codswallop. If not even Draco looked good crying, then no one else on the planet possibly could, but even looking like he was suffering from a horrible bout of conjunctivitis didn't stop Harry from peppering kisses all over his shiny, tear-stained face. He then pulled him to his feet and determinedly pulled him through the common room; half of whose contents stared, the other half respectfully averted their eyes. Harry had never noticed how many people got the Daily Prophet, but now all he could see was Lucius Malfoy's face staring from the cover of what seemed like hundreds of copies. With a thoughtless wave of his hand, all the copies zoomed into the air and burst into flames, the ashes fluttering down as Harry pulled Draco out through the portrait hole. He could pay everyone back a knut if they really cared that much.

~.oOo.~

Harry took the most hidden route to the Headmistress's office rather than the quickest. He figured, though Draco may not be thinking about it now, he'd prefer it in hindsight if he'd had some time to compose himself before facing Professor McGonagall. They reached the gargoyles and Harry realised he didn't know the password, so he asked them to notify McGonagall that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were waiting outside. The statues sneered, but must have complied as soon they leapt apart and the spiralling staircase was open for the couple.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall greeted, waving her arm in a gesture towards the two chairs in front of her desk. "May I offer you a cup of tea?" Harry got Draco sitting and then sat next to him, pushing their chairs up against each other and holding his hand between them. Draco had fallen into his unresponsive state again, and so Harry answered for him,

"Actually, Professor, um, Headmistress, could I ask for a mug of hot chocolate perhaps?" he cut his gaze towards Draco who was now looking at him as if he were going to cry again.

"Of course." McGonagall replied, looking kinder than her usual visage, and called for a house elf to whom she spoke in quiet tones. Harry took the chance to look around the office. There was a shelf filled with shiny and whirring silver objects that he remembered from Dumbledore's reign. Harry hadn't placed McGonagall as that sentimental, but then what did he know about her private life, really? And it must have meant something that they had survived Snape's time in the Headmaster's chair. Speaking of, he glanced up at the two portraits closest to McGonagall's desk. One was empty, and the other held an almost concerned (if you knew what to look for) Severus Snape, who was within eye line of both a copy of The Prophet and Draco's quiet figure. Once the elf had popped out of the room, she sat down behind her desk and turned to Draco. "Am I right in assuming you're here to ask permission to visit Azkaban?"

"Yes." Harry replied for Draco once it became obvious that the boy wasn't going to speak.

"I think Mr. Malfoy is perfectly capable of answering for himself, Mr. Potter." McGonagall gave him a sharp look and Harry wanted to cry out _'Isn't it obvious that he's not?!'_ but Malfoys were made of stronger stuff than Harry had given them credit for and he saw Draco visibly pull himself together and clear his throat.

"Yes, Headmistress." He coughed again, "I need to visit my mother and discuss…details. Now that Father has…passed away, there's the issue of the head of Household that needs to be sorted." Harry hadn't thought of that either. By God, Lucius Malfoy was a bastard. The house elf popped back into the room and left a mug of hot chocolate with a saucer filled with chocolate biscuits on a small end table that McGonagall transfigured. Draco thanked the elf, and it popped away, still bowing.

"Mr. Potter." Harry looked up. "I thank you for bringing Mr. Malfoy here, but I think it best you return to your common room now." Harry instantly frowned and protested,

"Professor, you can't honestly expect me to _leave_, _now_ of all times?" Draco had found out not even two hours ago that his father had just _killed_ himself, and Harry was supposed to _not_ be there for him?

"There are legal matters that need to be attended to, Harry." McGonagall had softened and almost looked like she was sending him away against her better wishes. "I'm afraid you're not allowed to sit in on the conversations that are about to take place."

"But surely if Draco says that it's okay -" he stopped at a squeeze on his hand and looked up at his boyfriend's pale eyes.

"She's right." He said quietly and Harry bristled at all the calm and dulcet tones they were using with him, as if _he _were the one that needed comforting the most in this situation. "I'll come find you after." The _'I'll need you'_ went unspoken and Harry, very reluctantly, stood up. He pressed a kiss against the back of Draco's hand and met his eyes over their entwined fingers, willing the blond to understand how much Harry loved him and supported him and that he'd do _anything_ to take away the pain. Draco smiled faintly and Harry felt confident enough in Draco's stability to leave him, however unwilling he may be.

He met Ron and Hermione looking frantic in the common room and all but collapsed into them. Gods. What a day.

~.oOo.~

Draco was an emotional rollercoaster over the next few days. He would flip from being absolutely silent, to sobbing, to screaming all during one conversation. At his lowest points, Harry found himself darkly thanking that Draco and Lucius hadn't been all that close, because he didn't know how he could handle Draco's grief coping mechanisms if this were expected to last months rather than weeks. Not that you could put a timeline on grief, but you could put a timeline on a Malfoys' reputation-damaging public behaviour. Harry found that sometimes he had to bolster himself to go and find his boyfriend after he had just screamed at and insulted Harry for a good few minutes in front of everyone in the common room, or everyone in the library, or everyone in the Great Hall. Harry wasn't known for being patient, but he was determined and he would be damned if he let Lucius Malfoy ruin him and Draco from beyond the grave.

Things calmed down come the weekend. Draco had left to Azkaban, leaving Harry behind. It seemed that "legal matters" even extended over to The Great Harry Potter and he spent the weekend sitting in Gryffindor tower thinking about Draco. He had been so volatile recently and he worried endlessly what it would do to see his mother sitting in a cell, to imagine his father in one similar, to see his father's body and send it off. Draco, as the new head of the Malfoy family, had made the executive decision to quietly mourn his father with his mother by his side, and then arrange for the body to be taken back to Wiltshire and buried in the family tomb. There was to be no funeral, and no wake. Draco told him it was because he didn't want the Prophet to gate-crash and slander his father even further than they already had… but Harry knew it was more to do with the fact that only two people would attend, and putting on such a grand affair as would normally be required for the death of a Malfoy would just be sad with only two guests.

Tired of feeling useless and having run out of homework to mope over, Harry spent his Sunday sitting at a table in the common room, scripting a letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt. So maybe he couldn't sit in on legal meetings or get into Azkaban with his boyfriend, but he could sure as hell get his boyfriend's mother _out_.

~.oOo.~

Draco returned from Azkaban pensive, but not unresponsive. He gave Harry a very distracted kiss as a greeting and spent the rest of Sunday night sitting in front of the fire. He spoke when spoken to, but otherwise gave no indication of wanting to actively participate in the conversations going on around him. Harry figured he had a lot to think about and let him be. He didn't tell him of his letter to Kingsley out of fear that it was too late and Narcissa's sentence was irreversible. All in all, it led to a very quiet evening, but not as morose as it had been before Draco's trip to the North Sea. The next day, Draco showed a turn for the better and the only indication that he lingered on his bastard of a father's memory at all was when he stayed up late, poring through the Malfoy family's ledgers and accountancy journals. He didn't apologise for any of the things he had spitefully thrown at Harry during his volatile times, but Harry didn't expect him to and they had no more fights after his return so Harry didn't look the gift horse in its mouth. After a week of Draco staying up late to look at his books, Harry started staying up with him, only having to semi-fake his enthusiasm for the business side of the Malfoy family. Eventually the frequency of the late nights dropped and Draco became more like his old self, sniping and snarking at anyone unfortunate to get in his way and leaving Harry to smile diplomatically and apologise in his wake. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so pleased to see the sneer that marred his boyfriend's gorgeous features. The drawl paired with his best arrogant smirk resurfaced during sex, and if he occasionally heard Draco whisper 'thank you' again and again when he thought Harry was asleep, he didn't react other than to tighten whatever grip he had on the boy and kiss his forehead after the blond had fallen into slumber.

~.oOo.~

It was the first week of May when the Sunday Prophet announced:

_THE SAVIOUR'S SAVIOUR, WRONGFULLY IMPRISONED, FINALLY RELEASED._

The article that followed took up about a quarter of a page, explaining how Narcissa Malfoy had lied to Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest which resulted in Harry Potter triumphantly thwarting the megalomaniac. It briefly covered a short interview with Kingsley Shacklebolt where he apologised for her imprisonment having happened at all. Harry frowned when he read that part as he knew that it was the majority vote from the Wizengamot that had sentenced Narcissa and that Kingsley had personally voted against her incarceration. He supposed that being Minister meant you had to apologise for things that you didn't necessarily agree with happening in the first place. The entire article was paired with an old, rather fetching photo of a glammed-up and elegant Narcissa Malfoy, smiling daintily at the camera, arm looped through another's whom could only be Lucius' but was cut out of frame. Harry felt his lip curl at the difference between being in the public's approval or the public's disfavour. Accompanied with the copy of the paper was a letter from Kingsley trying to explain his reasoning as to why he had banned Harry from the trial in the first place. Harry glanced a cursory eye over it, but ignored it otherwise. He had long ago forgiven Kingsley. He was hardly the first adult to take decisions away from him because they thought they knew what was best.

Draco had taken to ignoring the paper ever since the article about his father was published. Instead, any current affairs that were important to know for the Malfoy's businesses were published in one of the family books by the same _protean_ charm that flashed bulletins on the Prophet. Therefore he wasn't surprised when he returned from breakfast to find his boyfriend lounging in his bed, luxuriously naked behind the heavy curtains of the four poster. Harry threw down a pain-au-chocolat and his copy of the paper and quickly toed off his shoes to sit at the foot of the bed, facing Draco.

"Really, Potter, I always think you know me so well," he drawled, holding up the pain-au-chocolat, then he gestured to the paper, "you do so love to prove me wrong." Opening the paper to use as something to catch his crumbs in as he munched on his breakfast, Harry felt the smile stretch over his face, inordinately large for what Draco had just said. Sure enough, the Slytherin's eyes narrowed at his grin and glanced down to the paper, snapping it shut to look at the front page. The pastry dropped to the bed, crumbs forgotten, as he picked up the Prophet with shaking hands and wide eyes, gaze lingering on the photo of his mother before devouring the article in seconds. "You…?" he asked breathless.

"I sent Kingsley a letter when you were visiting her in April." Harry nodded, "He confirmed with a couple of members of the Order then pulled all the necessary strings."

"I…" Draco still hadn't got his words back, so instead he carefully placed the paper down next to him and smoothed the pages out with still-trembling fingertips. Then he launched himself at Harry, who caught him and overbalanced and they both tumbled out of the bed onto the floor. Paying no heed, Draco latched his mouth onto Harry's as the Gryffindor gasped from the impact, and gave him a more thorough kiss than a Dementor could have managed. He pulled away with wet eyes and stared down at the brunet, stroking his face and smoothing his birds-nest hair back from his forehead. "Golden Boy Potter." He muttered under his breath and pressed a kiss to Harry's scar. Harry was still reeling from the novel sensation when a screech from behind them notified them of Ron's presence in the room and reminded Draco that he was very much, very naked.

In fairness to the Malfoy Head, his sneer was perfect and his grace commendable as he stood and wrapped a bed sheet around himself. Harry, still on the floor and staring up at him through wonky glasses, thought he had never seen anyone look so elegant dressed only in bedding.

Ron stumbled out the room complaining at the top of his lungs and Harry snorted, then started laughing as the embarrassment set into Draco and he flushed, delayed, before grinning too. He tugged on some comfortable clothes, then urged Harry to put on his shoes.

"Come come, Potter. We're going to visit the Headmistress. I have another home visit to pay, it seems, and this time, you're coming with me." Harry paled at the thought of re-meeting Narcissa Malfoy as the boy who was dating her son and stumbled behind Draco as he pushed through the crowds in the common room. He vaguely apologised to the disgruntled Gryffindors, and once they were outside the portrait hole, Draco spun on his heel, kissed Harry firmly on the mouth, and murmured,

"Thank you." Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair and watched as the blond's eyes fluttered close.

"I love you." He said by way of explanation, and kissed the soft smile that appeared on Draco's face in response.

~.oOo.~

The Three Broomsticks was bursting with activity, the Friday at the end of exam period. The final paper – Transfigurations' practical – had been sat that morning and nearly every seventh and eighth year was out in Hogsmeade celebrating. Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione spent a short time chatting with Ginny and Dean (officially an unofficial on-again-off-again couple) and Seamus, Neville and Luna in the well-loved pub, before making their excuses and moving on to the Hog's Head. Draco ducked his head as he entered, not ready yet to look at Aberforth, but as it was, only Harry went up to greet the Dumbledore, with Ron and Hermione taking stance on either side of Draco and marching him to a table where he sat with his back to the bar. They lingered a while in the dingy pub, getting slightly merry on the Elven Wine that Harry had forked out for. When they departed, Aberforth waved at them, making sure to make eye contact with Draco. The older Dumbledore merely looked at him before nodding, and Draco unfroze and wandered off aimlessly to Ceridwen's Cauldrons as Ron departed for Honeydukes and Hermione for Tomes and Scrolls. This left Harry walking the high street searching for something worth looking at whilst Draco cooed over all the different types of glorified cooking pots he could find. He paused briefly outside Spintwitches, looking at the new quidditch boots they had out on display, before ambling down a side alley past Dominic Maetro's and J. Pippin's Potions before he stopped at the sight of a jewellery store, Magpie's Eye. The sandwich board sign outside proudly declared,

'_Key cuttings,_

_Kneazle tags,_

_Crup collars,_

_Owl tabs,_

_Engravings and personalisation available on every item of jewellery,_

_Hogsmeade's experts in engagement rings, bonding bands and other ceremonial ornaments!'_

He pulled out the pouch in his robes in which he kept his money, both Wizarding and Muggle, keys, the snitch that Dumbledore had given him and various other metal valuables. Throwing it up and down in his hand he looked between it and the sign and hummed thoughtfully before pushing the door open to a tinkle of a bell.

~.oOo.~

That night Harry and Draco escaped to the Prefect's bathroom for some much needed 'couples time'. Draco had been in a bad mood with Harry throughout the whole of exam period as Harry had instigated a sex ban after he realised that he was spending more time curled up in bed with Draco, basking in various afterglows, than he was revising for his Defence written. Draco had argued that Harry could take Defence in his _sleep_ and still get an O and Harry had retorted that flattery wasn't going to get the boy anywhere. Draco had decided that if Harry wasn't going to _deign_ to shag him, then there was no reason not to erect The Great Wall of Pillows in between them, snarking that at least something should be erect in their bed. Alas, the Wall got knocked down pretty sharpish that night once Draco realised that he wasn't going to be able to sleep without some form of physical contact with the Gryffindor.

So came the end of exams and the end of the ban and Harry was dragged by an excited Malfoy to the bathroom. He later dragged a smug cat back to Gryffindor, shaking his head adoringly as his stupidly posh git of a boyfriend preened and waddled with no shame, sashaying what must have been aching hips up the stairs to their bed.

~.oOo.~

"Oh I just _know_ I got question 16 wrong on that Ancient Runes paper." Hermione worried as she nervously clicked her fingers on the book in front of her, diamond ring glinting in the sunlight. She had been systematically reliving every paper from the week previous and mentally checking off all the questions she was only 99% sure she got right instead of 100%. It was driving Harry mildly insane.

"Hermione, chill. We all know you're going to ace every single exam." He said as he rubbed a comforting hand up and down her arm.

"I can think of a much more enjoyable activity you could use that action for." Draco murmured in a low voice into Harry's ear. Harry elbowed him hard in the ribs. Draco had been insatiable in the past week and between him and Hermione's constant need for reassurance of her academic brilliance, he was practising the fine art of How Not To Throttle Someone almost every day.

"I thought I'd already more than made up for it. Or at least, that was what you told me amidst your _moaning_ last time." He smirked as Draco scowled.

"You'll be fine, Hermione. More than fine, you'll be brilliant." Ron said, picking up her left hand and holding it in his right to stop the clicking.

"Yeah, Ron's always telling me how amazingly clever you are, 'Mione. So stop worrying. Results don't come out till the end of August anyway, that's 7 weeks away. You'll drive yourself crazy if you keep this up for that long." _'And the rest of us.'_ Harry mentally added. At that, Hermione turned to Ron.

"You tell him I'm amazingly clever?" She asked, cheeks pink.

"All the time." Ron answered gruffly, blushing to the roots of his hair. "It's true."

"Oh, _Ron_." Hermione sighed. Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, silently getting up from the grass where they had been sitting by the lake and tugging Draco with him as he left the two spouses-to-be alone. He could feel the burn of a velvet box in his pocket, scorching his skin through his robes. It had been sitting there since they all went off to Hogsmeade at the end of last month. It was the beginning of July now and after dating Draco for almost 10 months, Harry had decided that they needed to have a conversation about what was happening with them after Hogwarts. He had been trying to plan how to bring it up with Draco ever since his conversation with Ron back in January had got him thinking about their future. Every time he thought it was a good moment to ask, something happened that derailed him, be it something external or his own courage failing him. And he was honestly nervous about it because, unlike Ron and Hermione, Harry had no guarantee that Draco would be amenable to the idea. He knew that Draco loved him, of course he did, but time was running out to talk about it with him. While he had been deliberating, Draco's 18th had already come and passed and Harry only had another 3 days left at Hogwarts before they graduated along with the seventh years.

As they passed into the Entrance Hall, Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle stepped out in front of them. Both Harry and Draco sighed loudly, not even bothering to hide their exasperation from the snakes. These two had never given up on the theory that Draco was only using Harry, despite the rest of Slytherin slowly coming to terms with the fact that they were in an honest relationship. It seemed that Narcissa's release only encouraged their theory, proving that Harry was merely a means to an end to Draco. What they thought Harry could do _now_, he had no idea. It's not like Draco had any other family members he could bust out of Azkaban.

"What is it _this _time, Blaise?" Draco asked, sounding tired.

"We figured that, since there's only 3 days left of school, you'd be breaking Potter's heart soon. We wanted to be there to watch." Blaise smirked at the couple as they rolled their eyes.

'_Screw it.'_ Harry thought as he rummaged around in his robe pockets. '_Spontaneity always suited us best, and if it'll get these goons off our backs then all the more reason to do it now.'_

Taking Draco's hands in one of his, Harry drew his attention away from the pair of Slytherins in front of them. "Draco," Harry said, ignoring the smirks that flitted across the faces of Zabini and Goyle, obviously anticipating some form of rejection. It didn't help with his nerves. "I've been thinking and thinking on this and how to bring it up and when the best time would be, and it's been driving me round the bend. Seeing as _some_ people are still convinced we're going to break up before the end of term, I want to make sure that we don't."

"Just what are you insinuating, Harry?" Draco asked, eyeing his boyfriend suspiciously, gaze flicking from between him and his housemates. His eyes grew wide as he watched Harry produce a small black velvet box from the depths of his robes. He squeaked. "If that's what I fucking think it is, Potter -"

"I want you to move in with me." Harry interrupted, opening the box to show a small silver key on a chain. "The Order aren't using Grimmauld Place anymore and I thought we could do it up, make it our own. I thought you might not want to go back to the manor after…after last year. I mean, this is completely symbolic because we have magic and who needs keys nowadays anyway but, er, yeah." He trailed off and waited for Draco's reaction.

"Why?" He asked, breathlessly. Harry's heart sunk.

"Is that a no?" He asked, biting his lip and trying not to let his worry show on his face as he heard Zabini and Goyle snickering.

"No! It's a yes!" Draco cried out, grabbing the chain and fumbling with the clasp as he looped it around his neck. Harry reached out to help the blond's trembling fingers and Draco clutched at the key like someone was about to try and steal it. "You fucking prick," Draco sighed on an out breath, leaning against the wall behind him in relief. "Making me think you were gonna propose to me." Harry laughed and leant in to kiss him.

"I thought we might leave the teenage marriage to Ron and Hermione." He smirked, "But nice to know where we're at." Draco swatted at him, then turned to wave away the bemused Slytherins who stomped off looking furious.

"Oh how I do love to crush everyone's hopes and dreams." He drawled as he watched the pair leave. Harry rested his forehead against the blond's and fiddled absently with the chain around his neck.

"You've not done a very good job at crushing mine." He felt Draco try to raise his eyebrow against his forehead.

"Haven't I? Well I do hate to disappoint, I shall have to try harder then." He paused for a beat, then looped his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him in for a quick snog. "Mmm," He hummed thoughtfully. "Though perhaps I may love you more than I love crushing dreams." Harry grinned and slipped his hands down to Draco's hips. "I only said _perhaps_." The Slytherin was quick to repeat, but Harry only grinned harder and replied,

"Well, you've just ensured that I have years to change that into a 'definitely'." He pressed another kiss against Draco's mouth and swallowed his unhappy grumbles of,

"Dumb Gryffindork."

**Story End.**

**A/N:**** Yep! They no longer get engaged. Sorry if people really liked that, but oh my god, reading this entire thing back was the hardest thing I've ever done, I was cringing at every other sentence. I mean, the sex scene was bad but **_**jeez**_** dat proposal tho. It was stuff fondue was made of. Cheese-be-gone and intensifying the fluff, this proved to be a lovely side project to the more pressing issue of exam revision. Sorry if the ending still seemed a bit rushed, but I just wanted to replace the crap that was originally here as quickly as possible.**


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